


Blood from Stone

by misshoneywell



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misshoneywell/pseuds/misshoneywell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In olden times, sacrifices were made at the altar, a practice that still continues today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. These Final Hours

Katniss rubbed her hand nervously on the side of her skirt, the soft, nubby fabric repetitively sliding against her palm a weak yet comforting anchor against the storm around her. Grey eyes locked on blue across the room, and she felt her face burn with the agony of knowing that neither she nor Peeta were in control of their own destinies.

_I'm sorry_ , he mouthed, his lips twisted in a grimace.

It was a mockery of the brilliant, untainted smile her best friend flashed daily.

All because of her.

"Is it really necessary for them to marry  _now_ , though?" Grandfather asked from his position beside her on the couch, valiantly ignoring the stony glare her grandmother shot his way. Katniss tried to quell the surprise on her face, knowing his timid argument was futile, but still stunned and grateful that someone was attempting to fight in her corner in even a small way. "We'd rather prefer for Katniss to finish school."

"Surely she can still finish school," Bran Mellark agreed quietly from across the room, looking at his scowling wife and faltering at her expression. Peeta sat uncomfortably between them, his blonde curls brushed back and his double-knotted dress shoes gleaming under the artificial lights that only a merchant could afford in District 12.

Katniss knew Peeta's father to be a kind man, and recognized that on some level he was against the current situation, but the marriage of his youngest child to the granddaughter of one of the most prestigious and respected merchants in town was too dear of an opportunity to pass up for even the most noble of persons. Especially considering the current hard times-  _especially_  in District 12, where relative wealth and luxury was practically unheard of. The merging of the only bakery and apothecary shops in the district would be a grand coup for both families.

Katniss also knew that the real people running this agreement were the family matrons, both equally hard-nosed in business and ruthless for the bottom line- her grandmother, Drea Stone, and Peeta's mother, Lissah Mellark.

"I want this done," Mrs. Mellark stated flatly, the picture of an immoveable business woman.

Katniss had never hated her more.

She continued mercilessly, "Toasting and consummation, paper work filed in the morning at the Justice Building. No room for error or last minute double dealings, as Lorelai did to my husband."

"If she gets pregnant immediately," Grandmother interjected bluntly, ignoring the slight to her late daughter, "things could change and she might have to leave the school. Stone's are  _not_  trash with incomplete educations."  _But I'm an Everdeen!_  Katniss resisted the urge to shout, her familial pride outweighed by the embarrassment and horror at the pregnancy inference.  _Not real, not real¸_ she chanted to herself.  _This_  cannot _be real_. She looked everywhere but Peeta's face.

She was thankful that her sister was at a neighbor's house and not witnessing this humiliation.

"But it's not  _our_   _son_  that we have to worry about running off into those godforsaken woods with Seam brats at any given time," Mrs. Mellark sniffed, her lip curling. "The girl really cannot be trusted to fulfill a long-term deal."

Katniss gritted her teeth and literally bit her tongue at the thinly veiled insult that shot darts into her friend Gale, her heritage, and the very forest that had given her family sustenance and a way of life. Her grandparents-  _grandmothe_ r, really, made it clear that any defiant acts at this meeting would be directly taken out on her sister Prim. Her precious little sister had already suffered enough on her account, and she would never let it happen again.

_It was a year ago when she quickly slipped into a pair of trousers and a ragged shirt that would have made her conservative, old-fashioned grandmother scream upon sight. She reached into the very back of her closest and withdrew her hunting jacket for good measure; it was one of the only tangible remnants of her father that she had left, and when she slipped it on, she felt longing for the woods._ _She was taking a large risk, planning to be gone this long, and prayed that both her grandparents would linger at the apothecary for the duration of the day's business hours._

_It was one of the only upsides to the strict belief that her guardians held in regard to the apothecary being open every day of the week. They spent Sundays brewing and measuring and grounding ingredients that would become the thick syrups, pills and salves that not only multiple other districts, but even the Capitol on occasion, were known to buy. Katniss, though skilled at the work after over five years of intense training and scrutinizing by her grandparents, was not yet trusted to make some of the more difficult medicines that sold out during the week, and Prim wasn't even considered an option after she had dropped an especially expensive draught of cough syrup onto the hard stone of the apothecary floor during one of her first training days in the family business. This was one of the only days of the week that they did not actively dictate where, when and with whom Katniss spent her time, and while Prim was safely playing at a friend's house, she was bound and determined to spend the day in the forest with her best friend Gale Hawthorne. With any luck, and they_ did _come home early, they would assume that she was with her friend Madge. She was the daughter of the Mayor, and someone they heartily approved of._

_Her grandmother actively hated Gale. Her grandfather hated him only slightly less. They both despised everything that had to do with the Seam, and the life that they blamed for causing their only daughter to run away with a coal miner and cast shame upon the Stone family name—though, it had been Lorelai who had suffered the most, burdened heavily with the loss of her family and every merchant friend that she had ever had. When Darvin Everdeen died in a mining accident, Lorelai followed soon after, and Drea and Tram Stone had their bitter confirmation that the Seam was a horrid, disgusting place that would no longer hold any influence over Katniss and Prim, their granddaughters and new wards._

_She swiftly treaded downstairs and out the front door of the house, quickly looking left and right, hyper aware of any and all eyes that might be on her. Despite the early hour, she knew many were eager to report her comings and goings in hopes of a spare coin slipped into their pockets by her overbearing grandmother. Luckily their house was at the end of the merchant district, and the forest that she was about to slide into was directly behind their house. The apothecary was attached to the other side of the house, out of the line of sight from her escape path into the woods where she would meet Gale at their designated rock._

_Just as she was stepping off the porch, she turned towards Mellark's Bakery, which was adjacent to Stone Apothecary. She made eye contact with the baker's youngest son, Peeta Mellark, who was taking out the trash. He was also her neighbor and best friend in town. Peeta raised an eyebrow at her outfit and quirked his lips. Katniss threw her finger up to her lips and smiled back. She saw a shadow move behind him, and her eyes widened with fear that his mother would see her clothing and waste no time in sounding the alarm on her. Peeta correctly read the panic on her face and wasted no time in ripping the bag in his hands, sending a flurry of trash all over the bakery steps and ground._

_Katniss would have laughed at the diversion if not for the rolling pin that came swiftly down with a crack on Peeta's cheek, punishment for his clumsy fingers. She slapped her hand over her mouth to stop a scream, filled with horror and concern for her friend. She wanted to help him but knew that there was nothing she could do._ I'll be wasting his sacrifice _, she told herself_   _as she slipped into the forest and under the fence that lead to Gale._ There was nothing I could do,  _she thought as she retrieved her father's bow from the log that sheltered the weapon during the week._ It was all my fault,  _she agonized as she misfired yet another shot at a squirrel, ignoring Gale's incredulous stare._

_In the end, she should have just stayed home. She was restless and guilty over Peeta all day, which angered Gale, and their tense stand-off scared most of the game away. She helped him collect the haul from his snares to take back to his family, as she didn't need it anymore, and practically ran back to town, anxious to check on Peeta._

_She knew she was in trouble when she saw all the lights on in the front window of her house. She was greeted by a stern faced grandfather and fuming grandmother. Mrs. Mellark had seen her after all._

_They dragged Prim back from her friend's house and made her stand in the corner as they ranted and raved at Katniss for what seemed like hours. They forbade her to ever go into the woods again. She would work in the apothecary every Sunday from then on. They made arrangements to sell Prim's goat, Lady, which was tethered in a meadow close to the woods. Obviously too close for comfort. Katniss heard Prim's heartbroken whimpers from the corner, and died inside. They threatened to drown Prim's rotten old cat, Buttercup, if they ever caught her with Gale again—no loss to Katniss, but a devastating blow to Prim. It became clear that Katniss' shortcomings would now be Prim's as well._

_They made her burn her father's hunting jacket in a barrel by the street, curious townsfolk watching Katniss as she was forced to stand by and tend the flames. She refused to cry._

_She looked at the bakery and saw Peeta's miserable, bruised face staring at her from his window._

_She blew a kiss at him._

_He smiled._

She broke out of reverie and watched in silence as Mrs. Mellark looked at her husband for support. When he glanced away, the woman scowled and continued, "We have more to lose in this deal if things go sour."

Her grandmother considered this before nodding her head, her silver hair shimmering under the artificial light. "I suppose it doesn't matter if she graduates," she conceded, albeit reluctantly. "Her only expectations are to continue her apprenticeship to the apothecary and bear strong sons-"

"Or daughters," Mrs. Mellark interjected quickly. Katniss' eyes widened as she saw what was almost a glint of excitement in the normally cold eyes of the woman.  _That harpy wants a granddaughter_. It would almost be endearing, if it wasn't so disgusting and horrifying that they were speaking about her and Peeta as if they were breeding cattle from District 10. If Katniss hadn't decided years ago that she would rather eat a handful of nightlock than bring a child into this godforsaken world, where hunger and starvation reigned. If Mrs. Mellark hadn't taken out her impotent desire for a daughter on Peeta practically every day for the entire eighteen years of his life, as if he were to blame for not being born a girl.

No. Not endearing at all.

"Or daughters," Grandmother agreed in the background, "to take over the bakery and apothecary in the future to come."

"So are we agreed?" Mrs. Mellark pressed. The bakery matron looked out the window, her nose wrinkling as if the very sight of the forest offended her merchant sensibilities. "We've already had offers from quite a few daughters of merchant families," she continued slyly, surely not missing the narrowing of Katniss' grandmother's eyes. "If we wait too long, and  _she_  backs out to marry a coal miner," Peeta's mother gestured towards the girl in question, "then we will have missed an opportunity. Most everyone will have secured spouses and apprenticeships before the final school bell rings this year, and will not be looking to make arrangements anymore."

Both Peeta and Katniss' eyes flew to regard Mr. Mellark. The coal miner comment was clearly a stab at Katniss' own mother, who had been slated to marry him before she had fallen in love with Darvin Everdeen. It was fairly common knowledge in the District that her mother had slighted Peeta's father, and ruined a marriage agreement between the Stone's and Mellark's years prior. She suspected that pride and debt honor, both strong motivators in District 12, were as much to blame for her grandparent's push for this particular arrangement as the business benefits were.

"Now Lissah," Grandmother scoffed, the corner of her mouth twisting downward, "You know that they can't offer you even half of what-"

Katniss tuned out as she saw the alarmed dismay growing exponentially in Peeta's eyes and suddenly, inexplicably felt the helplessness crash around her. She knew then that the future was never really an option, that choice was an illusion, and that she would never let Peeta fall prey to the horror of a miserable marriage like his parents, to one of those vapid, self-centered bitches at school.

_Katniss tried hard not to tremble as she approached the lunch room at school, sitting down at the first empty table she saw. She was almost thirteen, and it was her first day back after the death of her parents and her move from the Seam. Her first day as a "townie." She had been effectively blacklisted by the Seam kids, and ignored by the merchant students. Katniss had always prided herself by being thick-skinned, but today was hard. Gale was two years ahead of her and had a different lunch period. Leevy and the rest of her former friends were openly mocking her new, clean clothes that spoke of expert tailoring, the very best that her grandparents could afford. Girls like Shira Clash, the butcher's daughter, and Andes Ladd, whose dad owned the grocery down the street from her house, laughed behind their hand, their eyes filled with an emotion that Katniss had never seen shot her way before._

_They're jealous," came a matter-of-fact voice, followed by the clanging of a lunch pail dropped across from her._

_Her stunned grey eyes flew up to meet the bright blue ones of Peeta Mellark._

" _What?" she choked out, not sure why one of the most popular merchant boys in school was sitting with her. She made eye contact with Andes and Shira over his shoulder, and saw the outrage and shock on their face. She had seen them following Peeta around the school yard for years now, giggling like idiots and trying to run their hands through his blond curls._

" _Seriously, you're pretty and smart and they_ _don't know how to handle that," he shrugged, smiling at her in a strangely shy way, especially after coming over so boldly and calling her pretty._

" _Why are you sitting with me?" she asked harshly._

" _Because you're my new neighbor. And I want to be friends. I always have," he said with startling honesty, unpacking his lunch neatly and efficiently. He unwrapped a square of cellophane, revealing two cookies designed with delicate swirls of icing. He slid one her way casually._

" _Thank you," she said quietly, touched. He looked up and flashed her another smile._

" _You're never getting rid of me now."_

_And she didn't. No amount of cajoling from his friends could convince him to abandon her. Soon Madge Undersee and Delly Cartwright joined their little group, and by the next year, their table became "the" merchant kids table. Sometimes she missed Leevy and her old friends._

_Katniss would always hate Shira Clash and Andes Ladd._

She felt as if her heart was going to beat out of her chest, and the nauseating taste of panic and fear permeated her tongue. Katniss noticed that Peeta's hands were clenched tightly in his lap, and wished she could at least offer him the comfort of her fingers threaded through his own. She yanked on her braid reflexively to the rhythm of his clenching hands, and suddenly felt an odd calm wash over her.

She spoke before really working out a response. It was so quiet, and the words came out as more of a croak, but every head turned to stare in her direction- each face full of a different sort of emotion: greed, pensiveness, definitive sadness, and worst of all: one of longing despair.

"What?" Grandmother demanded. "Speak up, girl."

"I said, we'll do it," she responded hoarsely, feeling her face turning bright red at even the implication of she was she agreeing to. Lissah Mellark's face flooded with triumph. "I don't want to argue about this anymore."

"Katniss,  _no_ ," Peeta cried, his face an innocent mask of sadness and confusion. His mother's eyes widened almost comically, and then flattened with anger as she stood up to face her son. "You don't-"

Katniss saw what was about to happen; had seen it enough times by now to recognize the signs. "Shut up you stupid boy!-" Mrs. Mellark raised her hand as if to smack him across the face, but Katniss was already flying across the room, flinging the older woman's hand backwards.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE," Katniss demanded shakily, interrupting Peeta's mother, who was practically convulsing with shock and anger at the bold, physical move against her. "After tonight, after we're married, you are  _never_  going to lay a hand on your son again."

"We'll consummate now. Sign the marriage certificate tomorrow. But I'm not having a toasting without Prim, Duff and Mill," she said coldly, thinking of their siblings. "We'll do that later." Peeta's mouth dropped open at her words. Katniss needed him to go with this. She knew it was selfish, but she could  _not_  marry some awful merchant boy like Linwood Tarlin or Garvey Talp.  _And you would die if Peeta married some townie bitch like Shira_ , a treacherous part of her whispered, before she pushed it deep down inside herself.

"Now get out and give us our privacy," she said with flat authority, hoping that they'd at least heed her request to go to the bakery and leave them to get through this night alone.

She held out a hand to the stunned blond boy. He stared up at her, and she could practically read his mind. They had perfected the art of non-verbal communication years ago.

_What are you doing, Katniss?_

_Please just take my hand,_ she begged him with her eyes.

"Come with me," her mouth moved without her knowledge. "Please Peeta. Just come upstairs."

Just as she thought that he might refuse, and both their futures were lost to the unknown, his hand slipped into hers.


	2. Turn Down the Bed

Katniss watched with alert, widened eyes as Peeta stormed around her bedroom, more out of control than she had ever seen him. He had started pacing the moment they disappeared upstairs, muttering under his breath and tearing at his hair.

"Peeta, just…sit down. Okay? Please, just sit down," she practically begged, her hands held out in supplication. "You're not making this better at all."

He stopped in his tracks, ever obedient to her, but looked just as agitated as he had upon entrance to her room. "I'm sorry," he muttered, looking absolutely lost. Katniss offered him her hand wordlessly.

Peeta wrapped his fingers around hers gratefully. "How is this even going to work?" he asked in a resigned voice, moving to drop down beside her. Katniss shivered when her bare knee made contact with the fine cloth of his trousers, and tried not to analyze what this meant. "I mean, where are we going to live?" he shrugged helplessly. With a handful of months left in the school year and their apprenticeships secured, neither one of them had been forced to confront what many of their peers were already setting into motion, such as new living arrangements and jobs.

She was pretty sure she knew the answer to his question, though. Katniss had noticed her grandmother bossily directing her grandfather to clear out some of the storage items from the dusty, abandoned space above the apothecary a few weeks ago, but had simply chalked it up to one of the many facets of Drea Stone's unpleasant personality. It made sense now, though. Many things were becoming clearer in light of recent events.

Katniss had actually gotten into a heated argument with her grandmother when the woman had quite nastily demanded that Prim  _clean the apartment from top to bottom, you indolent little lay-about!_ She wouldn't even allow Katniss to help her little sister, insisting that her aid was needed in concocting a complicated burn salve for the little Tattering boy down the street and  _did she really want to be the person who caused unnecessary misery to a six year old boy that was caught in an unfortunate house fire?_

"There's the apartment above the apothecary," she sighed, absently chewing on the end of her braid, shooting him a side-eyed look.

Peeta nodded slowly, his lips turned down at the corners. She hated to see him frown.

He reached over and gently pulled her braid out of her mouth, a familiar gesture that made them both smile. Katniss leaned into him heavily before giving into the desire to lay her head on his shoulder.

"Do we work separately?" he asked carefully. It was pretty much unheard of for a married couple in District 12 to maintain two separate careers. It was considered incredibly lucky to even have one business in the merchant sector of town. Otherwise you were expected to head for the cramped, dangerous mines- or for the truly unfortunate, lay on your back to earn a few coins to feed your family.

She shuddered.  _I at least owe my grandparents that much,_ she thought. Who knows where she and Prim would be right now if not for their guardianship. Katniss had caught Peacekeeper Cray giving her the lecherous eye quite a few times over the years, and she dreaded to think how many young, desperate girls had given in to the pressures of survival and had gone knocking on his door under the cloak of night.

Peeta mistakenly identified her shiver as being chilled, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She soaked in his friendly warmth anyway. They sat in silence for a moment, both trying to absorb the situation. "You're clearly inheriting the apothecary," Peeta pointed out in a ruthful voice.

They both knew that despite Prim having an innate passion for healing, she was hopeless in the medicine-making process. Katniss had proven herself to be strangely adept at the methodical, exact science of the work. If she had been considered good at her trade a year ago, she was practically a master of her craft ever since being forced to forego her Sunday excursions with Gale.

 _Gale_.

She felt a sharp, darting pain in the vicinity of her heart as she thought about the other boy – _man_ \- in her life. If Peeta was her future, a safe anchor that absolutely knew who she was  _right now_ , Gale was the one person left in her life, other than Prim, that completely understood her past– when she was a dirty, ragged Seam girl who desperately needed to take care of her family. He was someone who was a direct link to her bygone heritage and an entire part of her life that was literally dead and gone.

_It was a particularly hot day in October— something once called an "Indian Summer" for reasons unfathomable to Katniss, but it was a little fact shared from her father, and she clung to any of the random pieces of knowledge passed down from him. It was all she had left of her daddy now; old useless history about a long gone country, the voice of a song bird and how to shoot straight and true._

" _Bread Boy was staring at you again," Gale grumbled, dragging her by the hand towards the Seam. He was always in a hurry when they walked through town, but when they came in the vicinity of Mellark's Bakery, he seemed to move that much faster. He shot a particularly fierce parting look back towards where Peeta Mellark had watched them through the storefront window._

" _I think he was staring at the blood on my hands," Katniss wrinkled her nose at their bloody, interlocked fingers. She was pretty certain the unhappy look the blond boy had given her was due to disgust, a thought that caused a hot rush of shame run through her. "What's your problem with him, anyway?" she asked, trying to keep up with the older boy's pace._

" _The same problem I've got with every townie," Gale retorted, his stormy eyes flashing. "They have everything and we have nothin'." Twelve year old Katniss chewed on this logic and found she could not come up with a good argument against his words. Especially considering that she was currently splashed in animal blood from a particularly good haul from the day's hunt with Gale, thick layers of dirt lining her fingernails and a hunger in her belly that would not be satisfied until she and Gale could clean the game that was stored away in the satchels that they were carrying away from prying eyes._

" _Mr. Mellark isn't so bad. He trades with us for squirrels," she finally said as they approached the edge of the Seam. She had tried really hard to shoot one of the fluffy tailed creatures earlier that day, but none had appeared. "He's real fair, too—drat it, Gale, slow down!"_

_Gale was quiet for a moment, but obligingly stopped his frantic pace. "That's true," he said slowly, almost a drawl. "Squirrel is a treat for the baker. I reckon he doesn't mind throwing a roll or two our way for food that we could be whipped for poaching," he pointed out in a tone far too dry for his age._

_Katniss shrugged and pulled her hand away. She didn't want to talk about the Mellark's anymore. Especially Peeta. He had saved her life once last year, and even though she was close allies and hunting partners with Gale now, it didn't feel right talking about Peeta or his daddy that way._

_Gale stopped and whirled around suddenly, causing Katniss to scowl as she almost ran into him._

" _Just remember this, Catnip. While Bread Boy Mellark is eating sugar donuts and our fried squirrel for supper tonight, we'll be eating whatever scraps left from the game that doesn't get sold at the Hob," he stressed. "That's the difference between us and them, and no one is ever gonna let us forget that. We might as well start keeping score now."_

" _Oh, come on then," Katniss sighed, tugging on her braid. "I want to give Prim and the boys the berries we picked earlier." Gale eyed her for a moment, but mercifully let the subject drop in favor of the rare joy in giving a seasonal treat to their younger siblings._

_But every time Katniss shot a squirrel that year, Gale would groan into his hands._

Peeta was still discussing the logistics of their marriage when Katniss blinked back into reality.

"And the bakery…" Peeta trailed off, not needing to explain any further. His brothers were never interested in the bakery outside of their obligatory duties to the family business. His oldest brother, Duff, had married the blacksmith's daughter and was apprenticed there for the next few years, becoming prepared to take over completely after old man Laribee finally retired. Mill was two years older than Peeta, but still lived at home and worked at the bakery. However, the entire district knew it was only a matter of time before he settled down with Leisel Strombe, who had already taken over the florist shop from her aging parents.

It angered her, but Katniss felt certain that if his elder brothers had shown even an ounce of the initiative and talent that Peeta instinctively possessed, his mother would have been more than happy to let them handle the bakery instead. Never mind that Peeta had been almost singlehandedly running the bakery since he was fifteen, after his father had developed a weak nerve in his hand. This meant decorating the cakes and cookies, filling most of the special event orders and handling the 100-pound sacks of flour shipped in directly from the Capitol, all the while serving each customer with a sparkling, genuine smile.

"I would leave the bakery for you," he looked at her then,  _really_  looked at her, for the first time since they had made their dramatic exit upstairs. "I'll help you with the apothecary. Whatever you need."

Good, kind Peeta—a baker, born and bred, was willing to leave everything for her. She truly did not deserve this boy.

"No," she said firmly. "You are  _not_ quitting the bakery. Besides, we've already filed our apprenticeship forms," she frowned. As an outlying district, Twelve wasn't particularly formal about many things. Most people there would consider a toasting an official wedding, even without a marriage certificate. Apprenticeships had never been much different. Job potential was such a scarcity in  _every_ district, so certain steps were usually taken to ensure that precious apprenticeships weren't wasted on those not serious about their trade, normally in the form of a verbal agreement in the presence of witnesses. Official contracts through the Capitol had never been required.

This year was different.

Those that were fortunate enough to escape unscathed from their final Reaping Day and were eligible for apprenticeships were now required to declare their chosen trade through the government. Peeta and Katniss had actually gone to the Justice Building together to file their forms a few weeks prior, so certain were they of their paths _—_ though, Peeta had been far more content with his lot in life than she was at that point. In addition to the apprenticeship license, they also had to fill out something called an "aptitude test,"  _designed to pre-screen your particular abilities_  the new stone faced clerk at the Justice Building had intoned. The whole process had been a little bewildering, but pretty much everyone knew that it was unwise to question the ways of the Capitol. They had received their approved apprentice licenses shortly after, and hadn't spared much thought towards the ordeal since then.

"Anyway, let them work out the details," she scoffed, shrugging with more carelessness then she actually felt. She needn't clarify of whom she was speaking. "They are the ones who wanted…this."

Peeta shot her a pained look at the reminder.

"And you don't," he said quietly, his voice oddly flat as he met her uneasy stare. His eyes were luminous and wet in the dim lighting of the room. "I know you don't want this," he said.  _He means that_ he  _doesn't want this_ , a troubled, insecure voice from within taunted her.

"You'd rather have Gale," he pushed, shooting her a completely humorless smile. Katniss shook her head and looked away in frustration.

There was no way to compare the two, Peeta and Gale. And there was no love lost between them, either. There was simply not a good way to explain to Peeta without hurting him that they were both equally important to her in a different way. It also pained her to think that her friendship with Gale would suffer because of this absolutely inevitable marriage. Katniss thought about what a disaster the night before had been, when she had tried to break the news to Gale. She had sought him out almost immediately after having been sat down by her grandparents to be prepped for the negotiation meeting with the Mellark's, needing to talk to  _somebody_  that existed outside of the situation.

" _Is this a joke, Catnip?" Gale demanded, running a hand through his dark hair. "Please tell me that you're not actually going to go along with this."_

" _What else can I do, Gale?"_

" _Anything! Anything but that," he replied with quiet intensity, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice._

" _Easy for you to say," she said quietly, sitting down heavily on a stump behind his house. She had waited for her chance to sneak away from her grandparents, listening for the snores and even breathing that signified that they were finally asleep. "It's Prim," she said simply, her stomach churning at the leverage her grandparents would have over her until Prim turned of age in the far-off future._

_Gale scoffed and kicked a pine cone across the yard. "They won't hurt Prim," Gale negated bluntly. Katniss felt a flash of hot anger at his persistent disregard for her concern with Prim's wellbeing, as if she was being overprotective and irrational. As if she had ulterior motives. He had all but accused her of such on multiple occasions after she continued her steadfast refusal to meet him on Sundays anymore. "It's Bread Boy, your cozy little neighbor. You're doing this for him."_

" _Stop making everything about Peeta," her voice came out unevenly, sensing a fight and becoming upset with herself for thinking that it was okay to come to Gale for unbiased comfort. "You always do this."_

" _It's_ always _about him!" Gale exclaimed. "You're with him or that uppity daughter of the Mayor every goddamn day. I have to settle for late night visits made into the oh-so-shameful Seam, the rare stolen afternoon so you can help me with snares…" She knew it hurt his pride to admit that he still needed her help, but all she felt was frustration and anger at the direction their conversation had gone._

" _Stop being petty," Katniss bit out. Hurt registered on Gale's face before disappearing into a scowl. "If it wasn't for "that uppity daughter of the Mayor" covering for us, I'd probably never get a chance to sneak off with you again. And Peeta…he didn't ask for any of this either, you know. It's not his fault my grandparents hate you and want to keep us apart."_

" _Capitol forbid I ever speak a harsh word against Saint Mellark," Gale mocked, his face pulled into a tight grimace._

 _Katniss threw her hands in the air, completely fed up. "I came here for you!" she shouted. "I should be at Peeta's, warning him, but instead I came here,_ to you, _because you're my best friend and I just needed-"._

" _Marry me."_

_Katniss froze._

" _Stop," she whispered, shaking her head._

" _Marry_ me _, Katniss," Gale begged quietly, dropping to his knees in front of her. "We'd be good together. We'll take in Prim. To hell with your grandparents-"_

_Katniss trembled with suppressed emotion, standing up. "I should have never come here."_

" _That's right," Gale spit out, rising as well. "Too good for a lowly miner now. Run off to your merchie future, popping out perfect golden babies and spitting on the memory of what your parents tried so hard to keep you from-"_

_She slapped him._

" _To hell with_ you _, Gale Hawthorne," Katniss said coldly. She whirled around on her heels and ran, ignoring his desperate apology and pleas for her to come back._

"Gale isn't an option and you know it," she said, spitefully not bothering to correct Peeta's assumption. "And I know I don't want to marry some horrible person that I barely know," she added sharply, her hands shaking slightly as she smoothed her skirt as she stood, kicking her shoes off in the process. _Be brave, Katniss._

She slipped her skirt down, and pulled her blouse off in almost one smooth move. Peeta stared at her practically naked form. "Do  _you_? Because if we don't get on the same page then that's exactly what is going to happen to us both," she continued ruthlessly.  _She had to make him see._

Peeta's mouth dropped. "Jesus, Katniss," he hissed before averting his eyes. "We don't have to really  _do_ anything," he started babbling in a panicked tone. Katniss felt the sting of rejection quickly make way for a jump of triumph as his eyes unwillingly were drawn back to her form.  _If he's attracted to my body, at least that's something_.  _It will make this easier._ "Marrying is one thing, but to…but I'm, I'd never ask you-" he tripped over his words clumsily.

"But we do," she answered flatly and without pity. "You know we do." Didn't he understand? He just stared at her with those innocent blue eyes, so sad and so trusting.

"Peeta…"she sighed, her whole body filled with shame and embarrassment. "I'm a virgin. I'm going to bleed when we…" She cursed herself inwardly. How the hell was she going to make love-  _have sex-_  with him, if she could barely name the act? "They're probably going to want to see it. Arranged matches such as this traditionally require proof of consummation," she intoned as if reading from one of the outdated contract forms she had found in her grandparents office a few days ago, another moment in a long string of incidents lately that suddenly made sense.

"I honestly wouldn't be surprised if they hung the bloody sheet in the window for the whole town to gawk at, like they did in olden times," she chuckled bitterly.

He blanched at that. "That's a real thing? I've never heard of that," Peeta grimaced.

"Yes well, that's the sort of thing they teach us girls in our Gender Action class," she pointed out in irritation. "We learn how to please our men and crochet pillowcases and how to be seen and not heard. You learn how to balance ledgers, manage stress relief through exercise and how to control your wife," she finished, remembering back when Gale was in school, and a Sunday when he had laughed with her over a particularly ridiculous lesson in wife obedience that a visiting Capitol officiate had given in class.

He flinched but did not deny her accusation. "I would never want to control you, Katniss. Never. I've only ever considered you to be my equal. My superior, really," he said honestly, gazing at her with that earnest, serious look that she had caught him giving her over the years, charged with an emotion that she could never quite work out before it flittered away from his gentle, amicable face.

"And I don't want to hurt you. Ever," he choked out, obviously coming to grips with what was in store for the night. Katniss regretted telling him about the bloody sheet.

"You won't," she whispered, sitting down beside him again, acutely aware that she was in her bra and panties now that the heat of their argument had waned. "You won't. I know you won't. Why do you think I chose to come upstairs with you?"

"You're my best friend," he moaned, dropping his head in his hands. "Oh, God. I don't want to lose you. I'm going to lose you if I do this with you," he agonized, rubbing his curls in an anxious, almost child-like motion. She felt a rush of warmth and protectiveness for him that overwhelmed her senses.

"We'll always be best friends," she responded fiercely, shocked that he would doubt it. "Only now we'll be best friends that sleep in the same bed and have b-babies," she stuttered over that one. She grabbed one of his large, warm hands and squeezed, telling herself that it was for his comfort and not her own.

Peeta's head jerked towards her direction. "Babies?" he questioned lowly, an undefinable emotion crossing his face again. "Katniss, you don't want children. You never have."

She scowled. "It doesn't matter what I want anymore, Peeta!" Katniss quickly lowered her voice, realizing she was shouting at him. "But I care what you think," she continued in a quieter tone, looking away. "Look. I know you don't want me. I know that you would have probably never picked me. There are so many others girls…better girls-"

"You think I don't want you?" Peeta interrupted her with a harsh laugh, pulling his hand away and sliding it down his face in a rough, agitated manner. "You have no idea the effect you have on me, Katniss."

"Well, I'm sitting on my bed in my underwear," she snapped back, mortified at the entire conversation. "Of course you feel  _something_  for me right now."  _That's what I'm banking on_.

"Don't- just  _don't_  do that Katniss. Not right now."

"Do what?" she asked, angry and confused.

He shook his head in frustration. "You know what. Trivialize the situation. As if I would want to be with you just because of  _this_ ," he moved his hand in a general waving motion towards her body. She flushed at the implication behind his words.

"I'm so sorry that I'm not meeting your expectations," she bit out stiffly, humiliated and utterly rejected. She moved to stand away from him, but a strong arm yanked her back down to sit on the bed.

"Katniss, I'm fucking in love with you!'

Silence.

She abstractedly noted that she had never heard Peeta curse before.

"So in love with you," Peeta whispered, his eyes wide and filled with panic at the admission. Her tongue felt thick and knotted inside her mouth. She didn't know how to respond.  _How did I not know that,_ Katniss thought wildly. Suddenly all of Gale's accusations over the years that she had summarily dismissed made sense. It changed everything.  _It makes it easier,_ the bitch inside her coolly noted.

Peeta continued as if he would die if he stopped, "I've been in love with you since we were five years old. I would make cookies and write your name in icing over and over again. When you still lived in the Seam, I used to fantasize about just being your friend, I wanted to be around you so damn badly. When you walked to school, I would count each new rib that I could see beneath your shirt. And when I gave you the bread that time, I-I  _hated_ myself for not doing more. For not being able to help before. I was so jealous of Gale Hawthorne when I'd see you slip into the woods, but I couldn't even hate him because he was doing what I longed to do- taking care of  _you._  And when your parents died, and you came to live with your grandparents, I was- I was so hurt for you. I swore that I would do everything that I could to protect you from being unhappy again. And you lived practically next door to me! It was the worst time of your life but there I was feeling like I had won a lottery because I love-"

 _Shut up shut up shut up,_ she screamed inside her head. She needed him to stop talking so badly.

She kissed him.

He made a funny little  _mmmfff_ sound as her mouth collided with his. Katniss forcefully stopped the words coming out of his mouth because she needed him to quit talking, to stop saying that he loved her, because it would make what they had to do so much harder. She thought that she could learn how to fuck, but didn't think she could ever really love a man in  _that_ way. Even if that man was Peeta, the only person other than Prim for whom she would lay down her life without hesitation.

Romantic love destroyed; it was a dandelion in the winter. Love was for the  _weak_.

Peeta tried to pull back from her, but she grabbed his head forcefully, taking advantage of the space between his lush, perfect lips, shoving her tongue in his mouth roughly. It was a sloppy, unpracticed collision of teeth and lips, but for a few moments, it was  _right_.

" _Katniss!"_  he finally wrestled himself away.

She quickly unsnapped her bra. If the moment wasn't so serious, so crucial, the comical rounding of his bright, shimmering eyes would have been sweet.

"Peeta," she said unsteadily. "Please, just…please." She gently took his shaking hand and placed it on her breast. His mouth dropped at the contact. "I don't know what to do." She despaired when he pulled his hand away, fearing his refusal.

Her heart leapt as he stood up and pulled his shoes and shirt off, his face strangely blank. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared up at him, both of them in a state of fretful limbo. He stood with his hands at his sides loosely, still uncertain, as if this moment was one of fiction. With bravery she didn't know she possessed, Katniss reached up with anxious fingers and unbuttoned his pressed slacks. He sucked in a gasp as she pulled down the zipper and slid the material from his hips, standing before her in nothing but his district issued boxers, a clean white shade that accented his toned body.

Katniss felt a tug deep in her belly, and wondered if what she was feeling was actually desire. She could handle desire, could focus that emotion into this ancient act with Peeta.

She placed a warm hand on his tight abdomen and trailed her fingers slightly, utterly fascinated with the muscles there. He covered her hand with his large one and released a breath she didn't know he was holding.

"You can't do that," he said roughly.

"Why not?" she asked dreamily. She wondered if she was going into shock, the moment was so absolutely surreal.

"Because I'm going to go off if you do," he said with jagged honesty, his face flushed. Her eyes were drawn to the large bulge that had gathered at the front of his undershorts and thought she understood what he meant, with her limited knowledge of the male anatomy. Katniss felt an odd sense of excited empowerment that she could have such an effect on this boy, and wondered if she might be the Seam slut that she was accused of being her whole life.

A peculiar feeling of serenity washed over her as she scooted backwards on the bed, pausing to pull back the fitted sheets. "Come lay with me, Peeta," Katniss said in a voice she hardly recognized as herself.

He swallowed hard, breathing deeply and staring at her. "I need you," she said, and his walls crumbled completely.

He lowered himself down to the bed as she slid off her panties without preamble, her eyes closed as the last layer of armor was discarded, laying bare before the boy with the bread. She heard him inhale sharply.

"Katniss, look at me," he said quietly, kneeling between her legs.

Katniss felt his hand in her hair. "Please, look at me," he beseeched her, his voice thick with emotion. "I need to know you're here with me."

She did so reluctantly, and saw a question there. "We're doing this?" he asked with a funny inflection, almost a statement rather than a query. He seemed to understand that the time for arguments and pretenses was over.

"Yes," her lips formed the word as her hand reached out to touch his blond curls. She was proud she kept the tremble out of her voice. He dropped one, two, three firm kisses onto her lips and gently ran his hand down her cheek. He trailed his fingers downward and grazed her pebbled nipples faintly. She gasped into his mouth, and wondered at the little jolt of pleasure between her thighs.

"Are you ready?" he asked seriously. She bit her lip and nodded, pulling the sheet over their bodies. She spread her bent legs and Peeta hovered closely over her, his face concentrated. There were fumbling movements under the sheets and a whispered plea for her help to guide him and then  _oh god._

He slid into her and it hurt. Oh god, it hurt. She turned her head to the side to hide the anguished expression on her face.  _He was just so big._

"Peeta," she choked out. He froze immediately, his face a mixed mask of joy and fear. "Just…slow, okay? He nodded with difficulty, pulling back carefully before entering her again. "Tell me if you want to stop," he said softly, and Katniss appreciated how much restraint it showed for him to say that. His arms literally shook with the effort of holding back, of maintaining the gentle sliding motions connecting them in the most primal of places. It still hurt, not as badly as before, but it wasn't pleasant like she had heard the girls in the bathroom at school brag about. She felt absolutely filled to the brim, with no control over the little burning movements inside of her.

She spared a look up at his face and was moved to see a purely intense expression, one she had never seen. Katniss thought that she had known his every look, and for a wild moment, she wondered if he was feeling the same agonizing sensation- but when he let out a pleasured filled groan, meeting her eyes with such gratitude, such love, she knew it wasn't true.

"I'll take care of you," he swore, his eyes more serious and concentrated than she had ever seen before.

"I promise," he vowed, pushing into her again carefully, as if she would break. "I…swear it… on everything," he gasped, burying his face in her neck. His mouth whispered garbled promises against the crease of her shoulder in time to the tempered thrusting of his hips. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Oh, Peeta," she replied softly, glad he couldn't see her pained wince. "I know."

It was only a few moments later when she felt his body shake and tremble above her before tensing to a stop completely. " _Katniss_ ," he groaned into her neck. She felt a warm trickling sensation between her legs and knew that it was over. He rolled off of her- ever mindful of crushing her with his weight- but held her close in his arms, his chin resting on her shoulder. As if he couldn't bear to let her go.

"You didn't…" Peeta trailed off, ashamed.

Katniss shook her head and pulled back to kiss him lightly on the lips, wondering how she could feel closer to him than she had ever felt with anyone in her entire life. She felt the inescapable bonds of what they had done sink into her heart, laying down tendrils of roots in the reluctant soil there. "It's okay," she murmured, trailing her hands down his bare back, their legs entwined together in a knotted tangle.

Peeta held her tighter against his body. "I'll make you feel good next time," he promised sleepily, his eyes already shuttering closed in exhaustion. Katniss wanted to take a shower, to wash the sticky, sweaty grime from her sore body, but was too tired to pull away from his arms. For once, she wasn't thinking about what tomorrow would bring, about what the cold light of day would shed on their situation. It was too warm there in his embrace, too comforting, too _Peeta_.

"Love you," he mouthed against her neck. "Love you so much, Katniss."

"I know," she whispered, the words  _next time_  rattling around in her brain as sleep finally claimed them both.


	3. Other Rituals

Katniss registered the discomfort in her lower body before her mind fully awakened, one eye cracking open reluctantly as she fought her way to the surface of sleep. She felt inordinately hot despite still being nude, and the weight of a strong arm was slung around her bare waist, anchoring her firmly to the bed. She felt the even gusts of warm, steady air against her neck— Peeta was still fast asleep, his face nuzzled firmly into her shoulder.

She groggily thought that it must still be early yet, as Peeta was instinctively accustomed to waking up during baker's hours, starting the day well before dawn in order to prepare for the busy morning crowds waiting hungrily for the hot muffins, gooey pastries and buttery croissants that were breakfast specialties at Mellark's Bakery.

She was no slouch herself, as the apothecary opened not too much longer after the bakery, but she still normally had a couple of hours before having to drag downstairs and out the door. She always stopped to wave at Peeta through the storefront window, knowing his face would be expectantly searching through the throngs of people in front of him to seek her out with a smile at the same time every morning. On school days, they were able to abandon their posts and walk to class together; Peeta always armed with a fresh slice of her favorite raisin and nut bread while she handed him a cup of the strong, unsweetened herbal tea that he tended to favor, Prim twirling around them as they walked. It was their typical routine; a tradition started years ago, and spoke of their level of comfort and familiarity.

Katniss wondered how their traditions would change now and felt the panicked finality of what they had done last night well inside her. In the frenzied moments that lead up to their coupling _,_ Katniss had only been focused on the ultimate goal of getting Peeta and herself on the same page, of sealing the deal so that no one would be able to pry them apart and trade them like cattle to an undesirable peer.

With the morning and her dawning consciousness, she was questioning her every decision, her push to fall in line with her grandparents wishes.  _Had_ there been something she could have done to prevent the situation she and Peeta were in now? Was Gale right? She wasn't ready to be married,  _never_ wanted to be married. If she had to be, Peeta was her choice- she knew that now. However, the thought of commitment and the inevitable chain of events that marriage lead to made her want to burst out of the bed and run full speed into the forest, leaving behind her every obligation. She was not quite eighteen, an orphaned wild thing, with no one to teach her the ways of a married woman. Peeta deserved better.

He sighed as if hearing her thoughts, but didn't awaken, Katniss tensing as his hand rubbed a slow circle on her stomach before stilling again.

She felt sore and sticky –gummy, even- between her legs and yearned to brush her teeth. She didn't want to wake up Peeta, and didn't know how to extract herself from his embrace. She experimented with pulling away, and bit her lip as she felt his grip tighten instinctively. She turned her head and immediately softened at his peaceful face. His lips were turned up slightly at the corners, and she marveled that he smiled even in his sleep. Propelled forth by an invisible chord between them, she couldn't help craning her neck to place a tender kiss on his forehead.  _I'm going to be a good wife to you, and I'm_ not _going to run away_ , she thought grimly. _Even if it kills me_.

Using the grace and sly maneuverings that she normally reserved for hunting, Katniss slipped out of Peeta's arms and rolled off the bed to land on her feet artfully. She wanted to clean up before they were possibly interrupted , Katniss suddenly plagued with visions of crowing, victorious adults stomping into the room, ensuring that that she and Peeta had  _made a union_ , so to speak. She slipped into the washroom that was attached to her bedroom, a luxury that still never failed to shock her even five years later. She brushed her teeth as quietly as possible, ever mindful of the sleeping boy behind her. Katniss scooped some water from the stone basin on the counter and quickly rinsed her mouth out, but froze as she raised her eyes to the mirror before her.

She looked the same.

She touched her hair, poked her face, patted her cheeks lightly in wonder; she and Peeta had done something so monumental, so life-changing, last night. Shouldn't she look… _older?_ Wiser? If it wasn't for the aching twinge that throbbed vaguely between her legs, last night could have been a dream. She widened her eyes and leaned forward to analyze the winter grey irises that looked much the same as they ever had. She ran a hand down her stomach and touched it lightly, flattening her hand the way she had seen many of the newly pregnant girls in the District do, which had never failed to elicit an impatient eye roll from Katniss. She bit her lip and felt numb as she fully realized the possibility of what lay before her.

In the panic that followed, they hadn't used any type of preventative measures, they hadn't discussed  _anything_  really. She knew that there was a very real possibility that she could be pregnant,  _right now,_ and the thought terrified her to formerly unknown levels. Katniss was very familiar with the medicines used to handle unwanted pregnancies, had brewed them herself for various District 12 wives and young lovers, but the thought of killing anything that was part Peeta tore away at her insides. If it had been anyone else…

Katniss knew that she could never dispose of Peeta's baby—if she was pregnant,  _when_  she was pregnant, as it was practically inevitable at this point. Last night was not a one-off. They were a pair, a pair that was as good as married already, and with expectations to supply a family that would support their future businesses. Not only that, she knew for a fact that Peeta would rejoice at the thought of a child.

" _Ugh_ ,"  _Katniss glowered, her eyes following the waddling form of Marolyn Jank from the window, a girl she vaguely knew from her childhood in the Seam_.

_Peeta spared a glance away from his work to look at her, his face concerned. "What's wrong?"_

_Katniss rocked back on the stool she was sitting on in the back of the bakery, watching Peeta frost a batch of cookies. "_ Her,"  _she motioned towards the girl who was disappearing from view, albeit rather slowly._  " _It's disgusting!"_

" _Because she's pregnant? Or because she's not married?" Peeta asked her a little bemusedly, used to her outbursts._

_Katniss shot him her patented "don't be stupid" look. "Like I give a damn about marriage. But why would she want to bring a baby into this world? She's fifteen, practically a child herself. And she's from the Seam!"_

_Peeta raised his eyebrow pointedly. "Oh. Hello, mother."_

_Katniss scowled at the comparison between Lissah Mellark and herself. "You know that's not what I meant. I'm just saying_ – _she can't take care of it. Not really. And then in a couple years it'll be taking out tesserae, going to Reapings…it's just sick. The whole situation. Disgusting," she reiterated, his understanding of the situation very important to her for some reason._

_He was quiet for a moment._

" _But babies, Katniss," Peeta said softly, his head ducked down so she couldn't see his face, his hand steadily frosting primroses onto cookie surfaces. "They're beautiful."_

Katniss thought about a town girl like Shira Clash tripping around town, large with Peeta's child. She felt a stab of mixed emotions that felt a lot like jealousy and rage, and the fingers that had been resting on her stomach turned into claws. No,  _no_ , better it be Katniss than anyone  _else_.

She would deny Peeta nothing.

Katniss wet a hand towel and went about washing herself, wincing as she cleaned between her legs thoroughly. She yearned for a bath but feared that she did not have time for that. She threw the spoiled cloth into a laundry basket and hesitated before grabbing two freshly dampened hand towels. She reached for the robe that hung from a hook on the door and wrapped it around her body before entering the bedroom again.

Blue eyes were regarding her from the bed, full of wary hopefulness. She crossed the room and dropped the towels on her nightstand.

"Hi," said Peeta, his voice still rough from sleep.

"Hi," she said quietly, stopping to stand before his prone form, one hand fiddling with her robe belt. She avoided looking at the smallish red stain on her side of the bed, physical evidence of last night.

"C'mere," he commanded gently, and she didn't hesitate to climb onto the bed and fold into the arms that he held out towards her. She laid her head on his bare chest and listened to the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart, feeling calm for the first time since waking up that morning.

"Have you been up long?" she finally asked, becoming drowsy as his fingers made lazy trails on her arm.

Peeta laughed lightly. "I woke up as soon as you left the bed," he admitted sheepishly. "I figured you needed some time to yourself, though."  _You are so perfect_ , she thought with a pang of guilt. Even when she was sneaking off to take care of herself, Peeta was still thinking only of her well-being.  _I don't deserve you at all_.

"You know me so well," she murmured instead of what she was really thinking.

He shifted behind her. "How are you feeling, though?" he asked with concern. "I mean, you know, down there," he added awkwardly. Katniss laughed at his words, and he tried to frown before finally chuckling himself. She silently thanked him for unwittingly breaking the tension.

"I'm okay," she tilted her head. "It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would," she lied, the relief on his face the reward for her deception.

Still, she sensed his hesitation. "Katniss…do you regret…I mean, last night-" she twisted around to shush him with a gentle peck of her lips. "Peeta. No. I talked  _you_  into it, remember?" He gave her a searching look, not easily put off by her diversionary kiss.

"We're in this.  _Together_ ," she said firmly, looking him in the eyes. "Okay?" Katniss reached up to play with one of his golden curls.

His face relaxed, the anxiety in his eyes lessening. " _Together_ ," he replied seriously, touching his forehead to hers.

She cleared her throat and pulled away, reaching over to the night stand in order to pick up one of the wet hand towels that she had dropped a moment before. She steeled herself before reaching down to pull away the blanket still covering Peeta's body. She met his questioning look and desperately fought a blush. "May I…?" she asked. He nodded slowly, puzzled astonishment written on his face.

She peeled back the covers and got a good look at what she had felt, rather than saw, last night. Peeta's nude body was, in short, a masterpiece. He was all lean yet sinewy muscle, his abdomen well defined and ending in a v shape that lead to-  _hello_. Katniss now had visual confirmation that the pain she had felt last night had not been due to a fluke. Peeta was blessed in that region.  _Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush_ , Katniss commanded herself.  _That's been inside you, for Capitol's sake._

She dragged her face away to meet Peeta's eyes and saw love and acceptance there.

"You can look," he whispered softly. "My body…it belongs to  _you_ –my first and my only."

She marveled at how easily he put himself out there. At how unashamed he was. At how sickeningly happy she was that he had been a virgin, too, though she had suspected as much.

"Can I-" her voice cracked slightly, her tone oddly formal. "May I clean you, Peeta?"

Peeta's eyes widened, his face flooding with gratitude and wonder as he nodded. This was another marriage tradition in District 12; the bride symbolically washing away her innocence from her husband's body. The act was intended to forge a sense of trust between a bonded pair, the wife showing loyalty and deference to the husband, the groom vulnerable and dependent on her care. Katniss had originally not intended to follow through with this particular ritual, and clearly Peeta had not expected it either, but the towels were there…and he was just so…

He was silent as she gently wiped his body down with the cloth, starting at his face and working her way down his torso and legs before using the other towel to clean his most private of areas. She tried to stay clinical, but when she cupped his sensitive sack to clean underneath, Peeta moaned slightly and she all but rushed through the rest of the process. He was getting hard, and Katniss looked away, fascinated but unsure of how to handle his arousal. She was very much aware that they were on borrowed time, and any moment an embarrassing ambush could possibly come barreling through the door.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss," Peeta groaned, self-hatred lacing his voice. "It's just that you're so-  _god,_  I'm such a disgusting animal, I can't even control myself during this specia-" he broke off in a gasp as Katniss grasped him firmly in hand.

"Show me how you like it," she whispered. He gaped at her. It was her doing that put him in that state. It would be grossly unfair of her to allow him to suffer the rest of the day –a day that was bound to be fraught with stress and anxiety– without alleviating some of the tension that she could so easily help with. Last night was the worst of it, she could definitely handle this.  _Not the worst, you liar_ , the voice inside her whispered.  _You know you liked what you did last night_.

" _Katniss_ , you don't have t-"

"It's something I need to know," she interrupted, Peeta gurgling out the rest of his words as she slid her damp hand down his shaft in an experimental motion. "Show me," she said again, this time more demanding. "We may not have much time."  _Before we're interrupted_  was the silent implication.

He was silent for a moment, his breath coming out in uneven bursts. He finally reached out and wrapped his fingers around hers. "A little harder," he instructed softly, as if in a dream. "I won't break." She adjusted her grip accordingly, wondering at the feel of the velvet encased steel beneath her fingers. "Now, like this." Peeta guided her hand, giving her the rhythm that he liked best, faster and more irregular than Katniss would have ever guessed on her own. His hand fell away as Katniss mastered the rhythm, his head dropping back against the headboard. She watched the emotions play out on his face, saw the near pained expression cross his features that she now recognized as being an indicator that he was close. "Ungh," he grunted out, his hips starting to jerk. "Katniss-"

Her eyes widened as he came, thick streams of white shooting out onto his stomach and her hand, barely registering Peeta's whispered thankfulness.  _He did that inside of me_ , she thought in fascination. She was surprised at how much she enjoyed making Peeta do  _that_. She shifted and felt a twinge between her legs, and she wasn't sure if it was from pain or pleasure.

Katniss gently wiped his stomach with one of the hand towels as Peeta followed her movements with his grateful eyes, feeling strangely tender and womanly, as if she was a real wife and not this twisted creation of her grandparents and the Mellark's.

Peeta caught her hand and kissed each knuckle gently. "I love you," he said starkly. "You don't have to say it to me. But I'm going to show you, and tell you, every day– that I love you. And maybe one day..." he trailed off wistfully, his eyes an endless sea of blue as they bore into hers. "Maybe one day you'll be in love with me, too."

"Peeta," she choked out, hating herself for not being able to say those words back, for failing him so soon. "I don't care for anyone as much as I care for you. _Like_ I care for you," Katniss added, frustrated at her hopeless attempts at making him understanding her feelings for him. She hardly knew herself, and it was hard to put into words.

He smiled a lop-sided, wry smile, pulling her closer to him. "With one exception," he murmured into her hair,  _Gale_ always hovering between them, an unspoken name on his lips.

"No exceptions," she said firmly.

They were both silent for a moment before Peeta broke the quiet of their thoughts. "I think it's probably time to get dressed," he said slowly, clearly not relishing the idea of facing the day either. "I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be at the bakery this morning or not," he added uncertainly, his routine completely knocked off-kilter. It was Friday morning, a time that he generally handled at Mellark's by himself until it was time to leave for school together.

"I think you deserve a morning off today, Peeta," she pointed out with a slight smile. "We both do." He shrugged ruefully, a creature of habit.

He stood up and walked towards the bathroom, and Katniss couldn't help but stare at his well-formed backside for a moment. "We should go get our marriage license, probably before we go to class," he remarked thoughtfully, the eagerness in his tone unmistakable. The Justice Building held strange hours now that there were new, direct-from-the- Capitol attendants that were itching to take the first available train back to the city for the weekend. The building would probably be closed by the time the school day was over.

"I'm using your toothbrush," he called from the wash room. "Yuck," she called back, making a face as he turned around and chuckled at her. "Husband's rights," he said, his voice garbled from a mouthful of mint paste.

"Hey! You don't have any clean clothes!" she exclaimed in dismay, standing up from the bed with a stretch.

Peeta laughed as he walked back into the room, grabbing his boxers from the side of the bed and slipping them on. "I'll be okay, Katniss. Wearing the same clothes again today is really the least of our worries," he said wryly, stepping into yesterday's slacks.

She glanced over to reply and saw him frozen, staring at the bed. Katniss turned away her flushed face, knowing what he was looking at and busied herself with slipping on her underclothes while he was lost in thought.

That damn bed sheet was going to haunt them for life.

Peeta coughed and turned to face her just as she finished snapping her bra back on.

"What should we do about  _that_ , do you think?" he asked carefully, clearly not wanting to embarrass her, but was ever the practical thinker.

"Leave it," Katniss said simply, pulling on a simple blue shift dress and flat shoes that she knew Grandmother would approve of. She marveled at how comfortable they were with this morning ritual of changing clothes; at how normal everything felt for a second, as if they were a regular married couple, dressing together for the day.

Peeta still looked skeptical, pulling on his shirt and shoes before he approached her. "You're sure…" he trailed off, putting a hand on her shoulder. He was still so innocent. Still wanted to believe the good in people, wanted to believe that maybe his mother really just wanted to make a good match for him, desired the best for him, and that bloody sheets were just an archaic blurb in long forgotten history books.

But Katniss knew it would be the proof that Grandmother and Mrs. Mellark needed for their agreement.

It was an assurance that their contract had been sealed in blood.

Katniss reached out to entwine their fingers. "Let's go get married," she said gently, and lead him away from the room.


	4. Changing Tides

Katniss led Peeta downstairs, silently thankful that they had been granted practically the entire morning to adjust to the changed parameters of their relationship. To say that Katniss was shocked to have been allowed even that small concession was an understatement, and she really should not have been surprised one bit to see Grandmother and Lissah Mellark waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

Nevertheless, she felt a startled twinge at the sight of their expectant, smug faces lurking in the entrance hall of the Stone home.

Peeta's hand gripped hers tightly as they cleared the last step and stopped to face the two matriarchs.

"Dare I assume that you fulfilled your obligations, girl?" Grandmother asked in her trademark dry tone, looking directly at Katniss. "It would be a shame for Primrose to suffer for your weaknesses." Katniss opened her mouth, angry words ready to tumble from her lips, but a squeeze of Peeta's fingers halted her retort.

" _We_  handled everything perfectly, Madame Stone," Peeta interjected firmly, his back straight and proud as he stared down at Grandmother. He pulled Katniss to his side and kissed her head softly. "Katniss and I are a pair, and we share in responsibility of the night and everything after. It was no obligation." Grandmother looked amused while Mrs. Mellark curled her lip.

Peeta glanced at her sideways, shooting her a brief look as if to say  _play the game, Katniss._ Understanding passed through her immediately. He was setting a precedent.

By showing Grandmother and Mrs. Mellark that they were a unified front, at least a small part of the adult's control over their lives was broken. They might have dictated Katniss and Peeta's actions, but they could not control their emotions.

It occurred to Katniss that she hadn't been the only one dreaming of the day when she would be out from under the thumb of her guardians.

"We're quite happy," Katniss added while glancing up at Peeta with a loving expression, and found that she did not have to reach very far down to access the feelings that corresponded with the look. His mother surveyed them suspiciously.

Katniss watched varying levels of emotion play out on Lissah Mellark's face as she stared at her youngest son. His newfound sense of assertiveness obviously came as a surprise, and Katniss could tell that she was struggling to not beat the defiance out of him. Katniss was on high alert, and felt almost nauseated with the intensity of the realization that she would not be able to stop herself from physically attacking Mrs. Mellark if the woman touched her husb— _Peeta._

"You're a fool, boy," his mother finally sneered. "And if you think that girl wants you for anything other than what the Stone's spelled out in the contract, then you are even  _more_ so of a lovesick fool than I ever imagined."

Peeta schooled his features quickly, but not before Katniss saw a shuttering emotion -a flicker of self-abasement- pass like a shadow over his face. His mother had been fostering Peeta's self-loathing for years, and Katniss was sickened to watch him absorb the poison that his mother doled out so liberally.

" _Peeta, this is incredible," fourteen-year-old Katniss said, tracing a finger over one of the drawings that he had shyly slid over to her. They were in his bedroom, taking a break from studying for the History of Panem exam that was being given the next day at school._

" _You really think so?" he asked with earnest eyes._

" _Yes! Look at the houses, and the trees. Oh, I even see a bird cage in one of the windows!" she exclaimed, pouring over the whimsical yet fully rendered sketches._

_He smiled and blushed lightly at her praise, not entirely used to being complimented on his hobby by anyone other than his father._

"Y _ou should be designing communities somewhere like the Capitol," she said seriously._

_He laughed and bent his head next to hers, looking at his work. "I don't want to live in the Capitol," he said near her ear. "There aren't any olive skinned girls with sharp tongues to keep me in line," he joked, pulling her braid playfully._

_She looked over her shoulder at him and shook her head. "Your talent is wasted here, Peeta. You should be creating real cities, not cookie houses and spun sugar forests in the bakery."_

_He looked both stung and deeply flattered at her words._

" _Kat-"_

_The door flew open, and Lissah Mellark scowled at them from the doorway._

" _What are you doing, boy? Dawdling in your room_   _while your father needs you downstairs for the late afternoon rush, that's what," she accused him, stalking over to his desk and looking at the drawings scattered over the wooden surface._

" _And_ what  _have I told you about wasting your time with this_ garbage _?" she all but screamed at him, Peeta flinching as if expecting a blow. "We've wasted good money on your paper and art supplies. The least you could do is draw a nice cake pattern or something useful," she spat out, cuffing him on the side of the head._

_Katniss glared at the woman, hate burning in her eyes._

" _And_ you.  _Shouldn't you be at the apothecary? Lazy children," Mrs. Mellark muttered, the force of which she swept out of the room sending Peeta's sketches fluttering to the floor._

_Peeta was quiet as he gathered up his papers. Katniss dropped to her knees and helped him._

_Peeta stayed in his kneeled position on the floor long after they were done, unmoving and slumped over._

" _Don't listen to that witch," Katniss whispered, laying a hand over his._

" _She's right, you know," Peeta said in defeat, not meeting her stare. "My drawings are pointless."_

" _Don't ever say that again," Katniss said fiercely, leaning forward impulsively to wrap him in a hug._

_You're the most talented person I know, Peeta," she said into his ear. "And one day, you're going to do great things. I know it."_

" _If I grow up to never treat my family like that," he said against her neck, "then that's the greatest thing I'll ever do."_

"I  _love Peeta_ ," Katniss blurted out without thinking, a deep-seated, angry fire stoked and raging at the cruelty Lissah Mellark was capable of, even in the aftermath of her contractual victory. "I couldn't be more pleased with our match," she all but hissed at his mother. "Our one regret is that we were not able to come together on our own terms."

"Yes," Peeta added, staring down at Katniss, a mix of emotions flittering across his face at her words. "It's true. I only wish that I could have asked her to marry me without the looming cloud of threats and disownment hovering above us," he said wryly. The truth behind his words could not be missed.

Grandmother looked slightly skeptical at Katniss' statement, but gave a small shrug. "I must admit, after your Grandfather and I explained the marriage arrangement to you, I halfway expected to find that you had run off with that Hawthorne boy in the middle of the night." She stopped at Katniss' facial expression. "Oh, come now, girl. You had to know that we were very well aware of where you went the night after we sat you down."

Katniss opened and closed her mouth. "It's fine," Grandmother waved her hand towards Katniss in a dismissive gesture. "Hawthorne is your husband's problem now."

Peeta's hand was suddenly a stiff rock clenched inside her own. She didn't look at him.

 _How could she say that in front of Peeta?_  Katniss thought angrily _. Both of these women are absolutely evil_.

"Well, all the more reason to get the marriage license  _today_ ," Lissah Mellark interjected sharply. "But for now, the bakery isn't going to serve customers on its own. Mill is handling the morning crowd by himself, and I think we've indulged your laziness for long enough," she snapped at Peeta.

"Peeta's taking the morning off," Katniss said calmly, meeting Mrs. Mellark's eyes easily.

"What!-"

"You want us to get the license  _today_ , yes?" Katniss pushed with a tight smile. "We also have school. We can only do so much."

"Oh, let the boy go, Lissah," Grandmother said indifferently. "He's all but married now, a grown man. Can't keep him tied to the apron strings forever," she cackled at her own jest. No one laughed with her.

"Fine. But tonight, we will discuss the toasting," Mrs. Mellark announced reluctantly, clearly trying to gain the upper hand again.

"What's there to discuss?" Katniss frowned.  _This woman was really too much_.

"This isn't the Seam, Katniss," the blonde woman snapped in disgust. "Like it or not, you two are from some of the most well-respected Merchant stock in District Twelve. We're going to have a proper toasting ceremony for the town to see. We can invite the Undersees!" she brightened. "You're friends with the daughter, aren't you?" She eyed Katniss warily, as if she couldn't quite believe that she was connected to someone so high up on the District social ladder.

 _Stock_.  _That's how she sees us_ , Katniss thought.  _Chattel to carry on the family name, to show off as a spectacle_.

"She's right," Grandmother said concisely, looking strangely cross at having to consistently agree with Lissah Mellark. "Without a proper toasting, it seems as if we're ashamed of the match, or that we have something to hide. It's classless and selfish to celebrate a toasting in private."

Peeta and Katniss looked at each other. "Fine," Peeta said for both of them, his voice reserved. "The toasting is up for discussion— _later_ ," he added, his voice sharper than Katniss had ever heard directed toward his mother. She would be lying if she said that she didn't enjoy it.

Grandmother made a swift motion with her hand, as if to say  _it's done_. "The apartment above the apothecary has been prepared for you both," she announced, as if she were the most generous human in all of Panem.  _Yes, from my sister's slave labor!_  Katniss thought to herself angrily.

"We'll all meet there when you return home this afternoon. Also, we'll want to see the marriage license," Grandmother added. Mrs. Mellark nodded in agreement.

"Yes. No tricks," Peeta's mother glowered at Katniss specifically. "Just because you allegedly spread your legs for my son last night does not mean that I trust you."  _And your latent Seam tendencies_ , was the implication behind her words.

Peeta squeezed Katniss' hand tightly. It was the only thing that stopped her from raking her fingernails across the older woman's face. For her to cheapen what she and Peeta had done together was an insult too heavy to endure.

Katniss was surprised to see Grandmother frown at Lissah, her face a mass of wrinkles, but the apothecary mistress did not comment on the other woman's words. "Dram and I shouldn't have to sign anything," she said instead. "Young Mellark here is eighteen, and a property-inheriting male," she twisted her lips thoughtfully. "Even so, we'll want to see the license," she repeated again.

"Yes, Grandmother," Katniss said stiffly. These acts of obedience smacked at her very nature.

"Well, if that's all," Mrs. Mellark said with barely concealed irritation, no doubt put out with having to help tend the bakery in Peeta's stead.

"Good day," Grandmother nodded tersely at the other woman, effectively dismissing her. Her blue, faintly rheumy eyes focused upstairs, towards Katniss' bedroom. "I have some business to attend to myself."

Katniss thought she knew what that might be.

She muttered a terse goodbye on behalf of herself and Peeta, and all but pulled him out the door, both of them ignoring Mrs. Mellark as the woman sulkily turned towards the bakery.

"Well, that was awful," Katniss huffed out, stopping at the bottom of the front steps of her house. Peeta laughed a little but seemed distracted.

"It could have been worse, I guess," he shrugged, his eyes strangely distant. "At least they didn't run that bed sheet up a flag pole in the middle of town square." Katniss scoffed slightly but thought about her Grandmother, no doubt making her way purposefully towards Katniss' bedroom.

"Hey," Katniss leaned into him. "Thanks for supporting me in there. I thought your mother's head was going to explode when we basically told them that they did us a favor by forcing our hand with the marriage." She smiled, but Peeta did not.

"They want us to feel helpless, Katniss. They're realizing that they need us more than we need them, and that scares them," Peeta said, staring off into the distance, towards the Justice Building. "It doesn't seem like that now, because we're apprenticed and still technically living under their guardianship. But someday…in the not so distance future….we'll be taking over their legacy. We just need to bide our time," he said, looking at her again. Her eyes were wide and slightly confused at his words.

He took a breath. "And when that time comes," his eyes looked wounded at this, "you'll be free to make your own decisions. Prim will be of age. Maybe we'll have a child—  _maybe we won't_ ," he added quickly. "But even if we do, and you want to let us go— you want to be with  _someone else_ , I'll understand."

Katniss looked at him sharply. There was  _so_  much that she found wrong with that statement, but the retort on her lips was interrupted by a blonde, pony-tailed rocket shooting her way from across the street.

"Katniss," Prim cried, running at her with full force and launching her small body into the older girl's arms, practically knocking Peeta out of the way. "Are you okay? I was so scared. I didn't know what was going on!" she sniffed, her cornflower blue eyes wide and traumatized. "I thought you were being sent away. Grandmother told me that I am to pack your things this afternoon when I come home from school, but neither she nor Grandfather would explain anything."

"I'm fine, Prim," Katniss murmured, kissing the crown of her sister's blonde hair. She held her tightly and met Peeta's eyes over Prim's head. He moved as if to give them privacy, but stopped when she mouthed  _stay_.

"I'm sorry that you were so worried. And that you have to pack my things," she frowned, looking down at her sister. "That sort of stuff is going to change soon." She was dutifully obeying their grandparents, and she'd be damned if she was going to let them treat Prim like a second class citizen any longer.

"What's going on, Katniss?" Prim asked again as she pulled away, her lip quivering slightly.

Katniss sighed, and pulled her down to sit on the steps in front of their house. She looked up at Peeta, at a loss of what to tell her sister.

"Well, how do you feel about having a big brother, Prim?" Peeta stepped in and saved her.

"You mean…? You two?" Prim's mouth dropped as she looked back and forth. "You're getting _married_?"

Katniss watched her sister's face and nodded carefully.

"Oh! I  _knew_  it!" Prim squealed suddenly, reaching out to clasp both of their hands in her own. "This is wonderful news."

"It is?" Katniss asked in surprise. Peeta cocked his head at her with a frown. "I mean,  _it is_ ," she corrected herself hastily, making a  _sorry_ face at Peeta.

"Yes!" Prim laughed with sparkling, relieved eyes, suddenly all smiles. "You two are just so perfect for each other, and you're already so close. I mean, I know Gale always seemed to be an obvious choice but you're too much alike," Prim made a face. "All brooding and serious."

Any tension that had entered Peeta's face at the mention of Gale immediately melted away at the end of Prim's statement, his smile radiant.

Katniss gaped at her. The thirteen year-old had insights into her life that Katniss hadn't ever spared a thought for. Prim was constantly proving how much more mature she was than her older sister.

"You even  _look alike,_ " Prim added, her pert little nose wrinkling. "It's too strange."

"Prim," Peeta said seriously, squeezing the girl's hand, "I'm going to name a cupcake after you."

Katniss rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile at Prim's enthusiasm. Her sister was  _happy;_  she wasn't upset, she wasn't sad—that was of the utmost importance to Katniss. Granted, the younger girl did not quite understand what exactly was involved in the arrangement of their marriage, but that didn't matter. Prim adored Peeta, and he had always loved Prim like his own sister. That was good enough for Katniss.

She couldn't help but think of Gale, who so cavalierly disregarded her concern for Prim in one breath but promised to take her away with them in the next. That wasn't enough.

"So, when is the toasting?" Prim was asking Peeta excitedly. He shot a helpless look at Katniss.

"Mm, we're not sure," Katniss evaded. "We're supposed to be talking about it  _as a family_  tonight," she added, making an exasperated face.

"Katniss would be perfectly happy with a signed piece of paper from the Justice Building and a burnt piece of toast shoved in my face," Peeta told Prim in mock seriousness, poking her in the side. She giggled and flicked his nose.

"What, and you wouldn't?" Katniss asked, genuinely surprised.

"Well," Peeta said hesitatingly, straightening slightly. She cocked her head at him.

"I guess I wouldn't hate a formal toasting with all our friends and family, and some of the townsfolk," he finally shrugged, looking at her honestly.

Katniss regarded him for a moment.

"Is it so wrong that I want to show off my wife?" Peeta asked softly, starkly reminding Katniss of his emotional declaration the night before. Prim all but cooed at him, elbowing Katniss in the side.

"Okay," Katniss said, biting her lip.

"Okay?" he asked with raised eyebrows, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's it? No argument?"

"Nope," she said, popping the P at the end. "We'll have the toasting of your dreams, little girl," she teased him.  _Really, it's the least I can do for you_   _for putting up with me_.  _And, it will get our wardens off our backs._

"Okay, okay," Peeta laughed good-naturedly at her mocking words before turning to look at Prim again. "It's time for you to head to school now, isn't it?" he scolded her gently. "And without us to stop you from dancing in the streets and talking to everyone you see along the way, you'll probably be late if you don't start heading off now."

"What about you two? We always walk together!"

"We have to make a stop," Katniss informed Prim.

She pouted a little. "Okay…we have so much to talk about, though," Prim said with a significant look at Katniss, and she had to wonder if her innocent little sister suspected more about last night than she had originally let on.

After Prim had been finally convinced to head off for school, Katniss and Peeta started their own walk towards the Justice Building.

"Peeta," Katniss stopped him in his tracks. "You're limping."

He looked around himself in a baffled manner, as if he hardly noticed. "Maybe a little," he said with a shrug. "I think I just stepped off your stairs wrong." Katniss frowned and touched his hip lightly, her face skeptical.

_Katniss sat huddled behind the pig pen that belonged to the town baker. She had just unsuccessfully searched for food in the trash cans in the alley way, and was now fully prepared to die from starvation and exposure. After the baker's wife had run the eleven- year-old away from the scene, Katniss had all but collapsed in the rain and mud._

I'm sorry, Prim, _she thought to herself tiredly._ I failed you _._

_Suddenly, a warm glow appeared from the back door of the bakery as Peeta Mellark, a boy she barely knew from school, appeared in the doorway. He was an angelic silhouette in the hazy radiance of the bakery lights, and his arms were clutching something that teased her nose with forbidden delights. Katniss despaired at the smell of salvation that was so close, yet so far away._

Thump. Thump _._

_Her eyes widened as she realized what had just landed mere feet from in front of her. She willed her body to crawl forward and clasp the bread that Peeta Mellark had just thrown her way. Katniss had just shoved the warm loaves under her shirt and made her way out of view when she heard screeching from the bakery._

_She turned around to see the baker's wife strike her son squarely, the boy stumbling off the steps and landing hard on his side in the mud._

"It doesn't hurt," Peeta assured her.

Katniss suspected differently. Peeta hadn't walked with a limp in years, though she could easily remember both the overwhelming gratitude and crushing guilt she felt when an eleven-year-old Peeta shuffled into school, his left leg pulling behind him in a slight drag for months. She remembered how the merchant girls, like Andes Ladd and Shira Clash, had fussed over him and made a huge show of carrying his books around, Peeta's face bright red with embarrassment at the attention of the girls and the good natured ribbing of his friends.

But now, not even carting around the heavy materials at the bakery affected him, as the injury that had damaged his hip years ago had long since healed. His gait was only ever pronounced when it was going to storm—a nod to the lore that her father had once told her in regard to weather and the effect it has on people's bodies— or when he engaged in especially physical activities that moved his body in unaccustomed ways.

Katniss cringed as she vividly recalled the awkward angle of his body last night as he tried his best not to crush her, or compromise her comfort in any way that wasn't absolutely necessary.

"You were so concerned about my well-being last night," Katniss murmured, looking lost. She was already failing him in so many ways.

She touched her stomach with self-conscious guilt. "I didn't even ask how  _you_  felt this morning," she iterated, looking at him miserably. "And look. I hurt  _you_."

Peeta looked genuinely surprised at the concern in her voice, and peered at her stricken face. "Hey, hey," he objected gently, pulling her into his arms. "You didn't hurt me. Last night was the best night of my life," he spelled out firmly.

She wouldn't look at him.

Peeta tipped her chin back with his hand. "I would literally lose my leg if it meant that I could wake up next to you every morning," he joked, but his eyes were serious as they met her grey ones. Katniss tried not to stiffen in his arms. She still wasn't used to these blatant declarations of affection from her best friend yet.

"Let's hope it never comes to that," Katniss tried to smile and help bring back the levity to their conversation.

Peeta had a knowing look on his face, though, as if he could read her mind. "I guess this means that you'll have to be on top next time," he said slyly, and laughed at her face when his statement finally registered.

Katniss pulled back and punched him lightly on the arm. " _Shut_  up," she mock glared at him, but he looked far too pleased with himself for her to be annoyed, "or you'll lose that leg sooner than you think." She grabbed his hand to soften her words, and they swung their interlocked fingers back and forth as they walked through the town square. Katniss was careful to surreptitiously slow down her normal walking speed, hyper aware of Peeta's slight limp but not wanting to make an issue out of it.

Katniss could feel the stares of some of their classmates along the way, most of them obviously on their way to school. She recognized that they would have some explaining to do today, but was single-mindedly focused on getting through one task at a time. She looked over at the butcher's shop just as Shira Clash sauntered out, fluffing her hair vainly. The blonde girl eyed them quickly before doing a double take at Katniss and Peeta's clasped hands.

Katniss smiled at Shira sweetly and moved closer to Peeta as they approached the other girl. She pulled him down to kiss him on the cheek softly as they passed by, and she could feel the weight of Peeta's eyes on her profile as Shira all but gaped at their display.

"Admit it," he whispered in her ear. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"I always enjoy making Shira Clash squirm," she shrugged, but smiled slightly.

"Well,  _we_ ' _re madly in love_ , so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like," he joked, nudging her slightly.

They teased each other back and forth on the way to the Justice Building, and Katniss felt a weight lift from her chest. They would be okay. If this is what married life would be like -playing, laughing and loving with her best friend- then she thought that she had been terrified for no reason.

"So you went to see Gale the night before last," Peeta hedged suddenly, breaking their comfortable bubble as they neared their destination. Her heart dropped. Every time she thought about Gale, it was like salt rubbed over a quiver burn.

She looked at him with a sigh. "Peeta…"

"It's okay," he said quickly. "I'm not angry or anything. I mean, how could I be?" he asked with a slight edge to his voice. "He's your closest friend."

"Yes, but so are you," she said slowly, deliberately meeting his eyes. She stopped in the middle of the street, forcing him to stop with her, ignoring the bustle of the townspeople around them and the curious looks they were attracting as she grasped both of his hands in her own.

"But Peeta. You're my lover. And my husband, well,  _soon_  to be," she stumbled over her words, waving towards the Justice Building in front of them.

His eyes all but blazed at her. "Your lover," he mouthed the words, his lips carefully forming the letters as if to taste the very sound of them.

She gazed at him seriously. "You see?" she said, raising a hand to cup his cheek, channeling all of the emotions that she was capable of feeling into that one small gesture. "There's no competing with that."

He searched her face intently. "I love you, Katniss."

She felt a stirring in her heart, the rooted tendrils that Peeta had planted there responding to his words powerfully, growing into sharp little shoots. The feeling was almost painful, and frightening in it's intensity.

The swift need to run away appeared like an old, unwanted friend. It would be so easy— to flee the steps of the Justice Building and escape into the fresh forest air; to crush the vulnerable, rooted soil of her heart. She looked around distractedly, watching as the townsfolk walked by in a flurry of shapes, her eyes blurring slightly. She felt like she was floating away, like she was lost, like…

A gentle hand cupped her shoulder, anchoring her back to Earth. She met Peeta's eyes, filled with love, understanding, and most of all—patience.

And suddenly, she knew.

_I can't leave you._

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the mouth, chuckling against his lips as he let out a surprised noise. "Let's go get that in writing," she said, pulling back to smile at him, resting her hand lightly on the hip that he injured on her behalf so long ago.

"Get a room!  _Damn kids_ ," a voice grumbled from beside them. They looked over to see the town drunk -who also happened to serve as District Twelve's only living Victor- stomp past them towards the train station.

"I guess that means we shouldn't expect to see you at the toasting, Mr. Abernathy?" Peeta called after him with good humor, watching as the grizzled man sent a rude gesture back with his fingers.

"Must be in withdrawals, the old bastard," Katniss muttered as they walked up the steps of the Justice Building. Peeta shrugged but was distracted, his eyes gleaming with anticipation as he led her to the short line of people waiting in front of the License and Acquisitions queue.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Peeta said, awe in his voice. "I wish I could draw this moment, right now." He looked around at their surroundings intensely, taking in the aged wooden counters and scuffed stone tiling as if they were something precious to behold.

Katniss knew without a shadow of a doubt that what he was committing to memory would later be immortalized in pencil and ink, painstakingly sketched and fiercely protected by a clear sealant made of boiled water and small amounts of costly flour pilfered from the bakery in secret.

She smiled at him genuinely, but felt a nervous churning in her stomach, butterflies taking a winged flight there. For all of her bravado last night and today, actually being in this building, waiting in line, mere  _moments_  from officially signing her independence away, it was…

"Next!" called the grating Capitol accent manning the License desk.

"That's us," Katniss said lowly, moving forward and clutching Peeta's hand as if it were a lifeline. She didn't know why this felt like such a  _huge thing_. She and Peeta had completed a far more complicated and lasting marriage ritual last night. This was nothing, in the scheme of things— _a formality, really_ , she told herself.

"Names and inquiry of business?" asked the androgynous Capitol attendant in front of them, all green skin and purple eyes and bored tones— and obviously very ready to take the Friday train back to the Capitol. Katniss tried not to stare at the creation, but failed miserably.

Peeta nudged her lightly in admonishment before answering on their behalf. "Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen, marriage license," he said with a winning smile.

He or she finally looked up at him in interest. "How romantic," it cooed. "And you're so handsome, for a District Twelve male." It looked over at Katniss skeptically, as if to say  _and how did_ you  _get so lucky?_

"Thank you. I'm very fortunate," Peeta beamed down at Katniss and pulled her close. The Capitol attendant looked charmed, and Katniss noted that this one was much friendlier than the person who had handled their apprenticeship licenses.

 _Or maybe it's just the Peeta Mellark effect,_ Katniss thought, both the attendant and herself looking up at him in fascination. The green skinned Capitolite looked absolutely dazzled.

Between her reassurances about Gale, a very public kiss and their marriage status on the verge of becoming official, Peeta was fully  _on_ , his classically beautiful face radiating with joy and masculine pride. It was a sight mesmerizing to behold, and it was because of  _her._

"Any how!" chirped the green thing, tapping its bejeweled fingernails quickly against a small square tablet that resembled a miniature version of the monitors that aired the Hunger Games every year. "Just put your names here for me, if you please!"

They gingerly pressed their fingers against the cool glass of the tablet, writing their names awkwardly with their fingertips. The attendant giggled at their obvious discomfort with technology.

"You both seem _awfully_  young to be getting married," it chattered while tapping on the tablet again, "but I  _love_  a good love sto—ry…" the chipper voice trailed off and compacted tightly.

Peeta and Katniss looked at each other uneasily.

"Is something wrong?" Peeta asked politely, confusion lacing his voice.

Wide purple eyes regarded them sympathetically.

"I am _ever_  so sorry," sighed the creature," but your license has been denied."


	5. Making It Together

I felt as if I had been pierced through the chest with one of my own arrows.

  
 _Denied?_

 

I stared up at Peeta, who looked as stunned as I felt. I searched my mind, trying to remember if this had ever happened to someone before. Even my mother and father had been approved for a license, and they were from two completely different sectors of District Twelve. I couldn’t conjure up a single example of two people being unable to marry one another.

 

“I-I don’t understand,” I stammered, mystified. “That has to be a mistake.”

  
Visions of Peeta being arranged with a town girl flashed in front of my eyes, rapid-fire images of someone like Shira Clash standing next to him in this very office, gleefully yoking herself to him with a dash of her perfect, girlish handwriting. Of standing back with the crowd at Peeta’s toasting as he breaks bread with his new wife, watching my best friend slip away from me forever.

 

Peeta being lost to another girl, _forever_.

 

I shook my head, my hand slipping into Peeta’s and clutching it like a lifeline. He kissed my forehead briefly and squeezed my fingers. I may have never wanted to be married, but to imagine him with someone else was...it was simply unbearable.

  
Peeta was _mine._

  
The attendant looked regretful, tapping something into her tablet. I felt as if the worn, brown walls of the room were closing in on me. Even the air felt stale as it entered into my lungs, one shallow breath at a time. Last night couldn’t have been for _nothing_.

  
“I’m sorry,” she shrugged, her violet eyes meeting ours. “It’s fairly straight forward, and the system says you’re not a compatible match.” She made a face, apologetic but dismissive, already gesturing behind us to the next person in the queue while trying to push a paper into Peeta’s free hand. “You’ll need to file this paperwork, and the Capitol will get back to you in six to eight weeks.”

 

Peeta was having none of it, pushing the paper back at her with a frustrated expression.

 

“We don’t _have_ six to eight weeks!” he said lowly, his voice urgent. He exchanged an anxious look with me. We were both thinking about how impatient his mother was, and how school was over in less than three months. That we were supposed to get the license _today_.

 

“Well, that’s how the process works!” she replied, apathetic as she placed the paper back in a drawer. If her skin weren’t dyed Capitol-green, I’d have placed a bet that she was growing flushed with annoyance.

 

“But why?” Peeta asked, leaning forward and smacking his hand palm-down on the desk’s surface. I knew him well— I could tell he was struggling to stay calm, but the pinkness of his cheeks and slightly wild look in his eyes betrayed just how upset he was.

  
“It’s okay,” I murmured to him, placing a soothing hand on his back and rubbing in slow circles. I knew that I should be even more frantic than I was, more irate, but all I felt in that moment was a strong desire to comfort Peeta.

 

“It’s not okay,” he said sharply, looking down at me before staring at the Capitol attendant again. “What’s your name?”

 

“Ruby,” she said in surprise, twirling her brightly-colored hair with a finger.

  
“Have you ever been in love, Ruby?” Peeta asked in an edgy voice. My eyes widened.

 

“I-I don’t think so?” she questioned, looking confused. She glanced around the room with a nervous expression, as if someone would help her answer the question. There were two people behind us, tired and barely paying attention, most likely applying for next month’s tesserae rations on their children’s behalf. I recognized them from the Seam, though they were barely more than vague memories of neighbors past.

 

Peeta ran a hand through his hair and leaned closer to her, his eyes intense.

  
“You would know,” he said, his voice growing softer. His arm slipped around my waist.

“You’d know exactly _who_ they were, and when you fell in love with them—exactly where you were the first time you saw them.” Peeta stopped, his eyes slightly unfocused as he stared off into the distance. “I fell in love with Katniss when we were five years old, right outside of our school building.” He looked down at me then, and I was captivated by the emotion there. “I could tell you exactly what she was wearing, down to the plaid of her dress and the buckle of her shoes. I know what color her hair ribbons were.”

  
He paused and shook his head, closing his eyes briefly before continuing, “I’ve _dreamed_ of this day, every day, for almost my entire life.”

  
I couldn’t breathe. Was this true, or a bit of talented storytelling? He had told me that he loved me, but this...this was something from a picture book.

 

“ _Peeta_ ,” I said, quietly awed and a little embarrassed.

  
He tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear and smiled softly, his cheeks flushing darker before pinning the attendant with a burning stare. “I _will_ make this girl my wife today, Ruby.”

  
“Oh,” she breathed, blinking and looking around the room with hazy eyes, as if she had just awakened from the spell of Peeta’s voice. “That was just like an episode of _Lovers of Panem._ ”

 

Of course, she would cheapen Peeta’s story with some comparison to a Capitol television show that we only ever saw previews for during the Reapings. I was starting to feel hopeless again when she looked down at her tablet, a determined expression on her face.

 

“We don’t do this anymore,” Ruby said, lowering her voice. “Not for mundane paperwork issues. DNA sequencing is usually reserved for Reapings and special Testings, for both security and health reasons. The network is vuln-” She stopped and bit her lip. “Anyway.” She fiddled with the bottom of her tablet, and a small tray popped out, a round pad with a sharp point jutting forward from it. I recognized it immediately. It’s what the Peacekeepers prick us with during the Reaping to identify us.

 

“I need something to sterilize this,” she mumbled, looking exasperated as she searched under the desk before finally removing a box labeled “emergency” in small black lettering.

  
Ruby pulled from out of it a tiny bottle that I recognized as rubbing alcohol, a very costly medicinal liquid that we keep in the apothecary for special use _only_. She took a small gauze from the box and poured a little of the liquid on it, briskly cleaning the small needle on the tray before tossing the gauze into a waste bin.

  
“Give me your hand,” she said to me, her eyes a little shifty.

  
I hesitated, but Peeta nudged me gently before pushing forward the hand that was clasped in his. Ruby grabbed my finger and brought it down onto the tray, and I winced when I felt the tiny blade pierce my skin.

 

I drew back my hand quickly, but Peeta took it again, raising my hurt finger to his lips and kissing it.

  
“Precious,” Ruby whispered, her eyes flicking up to us before looking back down at her tablet, her eyes expectant as she read whatever appeared on the screen. Her face brightened. “Oh!”

 

“What is it?” Peeta asked anxiously.

  
“You signed your name wrong, silly girl!” she said cheerfully. “That’s easily fixed.”

 

“What do you mean?” I demanded, my eyebrows furrowed together.

  
“You signed Katniss Everdeen,” Ruby replied, matter-of-fact. “It’s an invalid name. You’re now listed in our system as Katniss Stone.”

 

My mouth dropped open. _What?_

 

I couldn’t believe my scheming grandparents. Or Grandmother, rather. I knew that Prim and I had been adopted by them, but I had no clue that our names had ever been officially changed. When had that happened? Of course it wouldn’t have registered to me during Reapings, because they simply prick our fingers, and the rest of the time is spent praying that we never, ever hear our name during the rest of the session.

 

It killed me that I was no longer Katniss Everdeen. My identity officially stripped, the legacy of my father pulled from me one bit at a time—his hunting jacket, his _name_ , our livelihood. This blow was intense, and it was only when Peeta squeezed my hand that I was reminded of where we were, and what we were trying to accomplish.

  
He gave me a sympathetic look, his eyes sad as Ruby held the tablet out to me again.

  
“Just sign your name again, dear!” she commanded me. “Correctly this time, please.” Ruby grinned, looking pleased with herself.

 

I hesitated, staring down. Katniss _Stone_. It made me sick. I didn’t want to write it. Every fiber of my being rebelled against it. But Peeta was looking at me, anxious and scared, his hand shaking a little in mine. Ruby was waiting, the proud expression slowly fading from her face. There were people behind us, poor and exhausted, with jobs and lives waiting for them.

 

I took the tablet. I signed my name.

 

And just like that, I wasn’t Katniss Everdeen anymore. I wasn’t even Katniss Stone.

 

“Congratulations, Mrs. Mellark!” Ruby said, a wide smile back on her face. Even the men behind us applauded a little, and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw on their faces genuine expressions of happiness. There was just so little cause for it in District Twelve.

 

It’s just that the name _Mrs. Mellark_ settled in my stomach like a lead weight, visions of his mother in my mind, the words sounding so foreign and unappealing and uncomfortable that it was hard to reconcile owning it. _Mrs. Mellark_. That’s me, now. The smile pasted on my face wobbled a little.

 

But then, I looked up at Peeta. That’s when I knew I did the right thing. The expression of happiness and relief and pure _joy_ on his face was so intense that I reached right up on my toes, cupped his face and drew him down for a kiss.

 

“Adorable,” Ruby sighed behind us, and we pulled away from each other. Peeta looked surprised and dreamy-eyed, and I ducked my head.  

 

A machine behind her sputtered out a piece of paper that she placed inside of an envelope. “Here’s your license, darlings,” she winked, waving her jeweled nails at us. “May the odds be ever in your favor.”

  
We thanked her, slightly dazed, and Peeta shook the hands of the men in the line and spoke to them a moment, as usual managing to charm everyone that crossed his path. A thought occurred to me, and I turned back around to address Ruby again.

 

“Could we have a Day Pass?” I asked her while Peeta was engaged, his hands flying enthusiastically as he spoke to the men.

  
I knew that we would be chastised, possibly even punished for being so late to school, but government-issued Day Passes universally excused you from tardiness, whether you were a miner late for your shift, or students like us. They weren’t easy to get, but official government business was warrant enough for one. I definitely didn’t want to risk being stopped by the wrong Peacekeeper.

 

“Of course,” Ruby allowed with a smile, signing a bright yellow square with a flourish and stamping it with a Panem seal. I thanked her again and walked over to Peeta, handing him the Day Pass, which he carefully slid into the envelope with our license.

  
After a few parting words to the men, I led him back out onto the street. The sun and fresh air was a relief, and I tilted my head back to feel the warmth on my face as we walked toward the school, silent and a little stunned.

 

“Wow,” Peeta finally said, his fingers curled around the envelope that held the proof of our marriage. “You’re, we’re-” He stopped and turned to face me. “Katniss. You’re my _wife_.”

 

“I kind of thought we established that last night,” I said dryly, elbowing him when he flushed, a smile curling on his lips.

  
“But no one can take it away from us now,” he replied earnestly, switching the envelope to his other hand so that he could lace his fingers through mine. He swung our hands between us as we started walking again.

  
I glanced at him when he fell silent again, watching as the sun-dappled strands of his hair glowed gold in the morning light. How the freckles on his fair face were sprinkled across the bridge of his nose, the tip of it turned up sweetly at the end. How the tips of his ears were a little pointed, a bit like the delicate curve of a leaf. The strong cut of his jaw.

 

 _My husband_.

 

“What are you staring at?” he asked without looking down, amusement in his voice.

 

“You,” I said truthfully. “So many town girls are going to absolutely _hate_ me.”

 

He cocked his head, looking confused. Peeta genuinely had no idea how sought after he was.

 

“Believe me. I’ll be the envied one,” he replied.

  
I squirmed, shaking my head at him and his fanciful words. Merchant grandparents or not, I was still very much an outsider to most of the people in town.

  
“Sure,” I muttered. He frowned at me, but correctly sensed I wasn’t in the mood for more compliments.

 

The school loomed ahead, a slouching, aged building that had seen better days, perpetually coated in a film of coal dust, almost every window cracked or smudged. I wouldn’t miss this place.

  
Almost unconsciously I released Peeta’s hand as we approached the steps of the school. He glanced down at the space between our fingers but didn’t comment on it, and instead opened the worn door, the once-red paint falling in curling strips down the faded front of it.

 

“After you,” he said, ever the gentleman.

 

“Don’t you want to go by your cubby first?” I asked, nodding at the envelope in his hand.

 

A haggard instructor poked his head out of a classroom as we passed by, an irritated look on his face. I gestured to Peeta, and he slid the Day Pass out of the envelope and held it up. Dust particles swirled around it, highlighted by the streams of light that snuck through the cracked panes of the hall windows. The man appraised the bright yellow Pass from afar before nodding and shutting the door again.

 

I turned back to Peeta, and pointed toward the hall that lead to the row of our personal storage cubbies.

 

“I’m fine,” Peeta replied, gesturing instead toward our classroom. He started walking in that direction, and I followed him.

 

“You can get rid of that, though.”

 

“No.” His hand tightened around the envelope, a stubborn look on his face. “I don’t want anything to happen to it.” I shrugged, and fell into step with him.

 

“Don’t you think something is more likely to happen to it if you’re carting it around all day?” I asked with a laugh, stopping in front of our classroom.

 

“I just want to,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically sharp.

  
My eyebrows raised. “All right,” I said, nodding slowly.

 

Why was I pushing him so hard? I’d been his wife for all of twenty minutes, and already I was being unreasonably difficult.

  
His voice softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

  
“It’s fine,” I said, nudging him with my elbow. “You’re right, anyway. What if Shira Clash stole it?” I widened my eyes in exaggeration.

  
“Katniss,” Peeta laughed quietly, opening the door for me.

 

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” I murmured as I passed by him and walked into the room.

 

The instructor raised her head when we walked in, and Peeta held up the Pass with a smile, a proud look in his eye. Murmurs and a few gasps spread out across the room, and I struggled to hold back a flush. There were only a few reasons why we’d be in possession of a Day Pass, and coupled with the timing of marriage-arrangement season, well—it was fairly obvious what had happened, even if I wasn’t certain that either Grandmother or Mrs. Mellark had already been spreading the word of our impending family merger.

  
We took our seats, Peeta’s desk one row over and two seats up from mine. I wished more than anything that I had him next to me, a comforting presence and buffer against the eyes that I _knew_ were appraising and judging me. I slouched down in my chair the remainder of the day, silently thankful when it was time for lunch.

 

I heard a sniffle, and I turned in my seat to meet the eyes of Shira Clash, who gave me a baleful stare from underneath her long, sooty eyelashes.

  
“You thieving little _witch_ ,” she hissed under her breath. I looked around the room, but everyone was too busy piling toward the cafeteria, or surrounding Peeta, slapping his back and nudging him in the side. News definitely traveled fast. “Are you even listening to me?” Shira was saying, and I blinked.

 

“No,” I replied, standing up. “Peeta was never yours to begin with. And now everyone knows it.” I smiled at her, feeling mean but strangely unapologetic. She gaped at me, and I walked over to Peeta, who welcomed me with a clasp of his hand.

 

“And you’re _all_ welcome to our toasting!” Peeta was saying with a wide smile. I wondered what his mother would think about that. There were Seam kids in the room.

 

“Will there be cake?” someone asked eagerly, and Peeta laughed.

  
“Of course!” he exclaimed. “Katniss would leave me if I didn’t have cake.”

  
Everyone laughed, but the girls stared at me with a mix of envy and anger, no doubt imagining a life filled with pastries and chubby blonde Peeta-babies. I felt my stomach swirl nervously, and unconsciously stepped backward, my fingers falling away from his.

 

* * *

 

 

“Everyone seemed really happy for us!” Peeta said, whistling cheerfully as we walked down the road that led back to town. He waved to people as they passed us, his eyes crinkling happily at the corners.

  
“Mmhmm,” I echoed, turning my face away from his to hide my expression.

 

“I heard all about it!” Prim replied eagerly, bumping shoulders with me as she walked between us. She was carefully holding the envelope that contained our marriage license between her fingertips, and kept giving it little curious glances as we walked. You’d have thought Peeta was entrusting her with the deed to the bakery with the way he reluctantly handed it over to her after school, but not even he could say no to that hopeful little face when she asked to carry it home. “You two were all anyone could talk about today.”

 

“Great,” I said with mock-excitement, taking Peeta’s hand that he held out behind Prim’s back. “I do love being the center of attention.”

  
He laughed in return, squeezing my fingers. “At least we got lunch out of it,” he offered.

  
That was true. Peeta and I had been so flustered and preoccupied this morning that we hadn’t even packed a lunch for the day, but the chums at our table had been more than happy to share their food with us. Normally, I would have staunchly refused such an offer, but it was fairly common for those who could afford it to treat a newly matched couple with a token of congratulations, and it was considered to be very rude to reject such a gift. It wasn’t as common to actually be _married_ while still in upper school, which made us even more of a spectacle than I felt comfortable with. So, I accepted the food with weakly upturned lips and not much protest.

 

Madge had quietly slid half of her large sandwich our way, a small but genuine smile on her face as she congratulated us. Delly contributed a bright green apple, a downright luxury which Peeta and I shared with back-and-forth bites. It had been strangely intimate, and I was hyper aware of the way the girls at other tables watched as Peeta took careful bites of the apple before holding it to my waiting lips.

  
In fact, the entire lunch hour was a bizarre experience, with many people walking up and congratulating us, most likely hoping for a toasting invitation, which Peeta eagerly offered to any friendly face. He was just so blasted _excited_.

 

Along with our classmates’ best wishes, a few others also offered small tokens of food, such as a slice of spice cake from Alise Matterly, and a peppermint stick from Teddy Oakenridge, the son of the sweet shop owner.

 

I ruffled Prim’s hair as she eagerly sucked on the peppermint stick, which we saved for her at Peeta’s whispered suggestion. _Prim will love this, don’t you think?_ he had said into my ear, and it took everything I had not to kiss him right on the lips in front of the entire cafeteria.

 

“So many people were jealous of me today,” Prim was saying proudly, threading her arm through Peeta’s, causing him to unlink his fingers from mine. He didn’t bat an eyelash, and I loved him for that. “Everyone wants to come to your toasting. It’s going to be the most exciting thing!”

 

“We haven’t even planned it yet, yet you two are inviting the entire district,” I said, frowning. “Your mother is going to have a fit.”

 

Peeta shrugged carelessly. “Our families wanted us to have a large celebration,” he said.

 

“But you invited Seam kids,” I pointed out.

 

Prim frowned at me and pulled away from Peeta, walking a few feet ahead of us. I flushed. I hadn’t meant it like the way it sounded—as if I didn’t want them to come.

 

“I know,” Peeta said patiently. “I want everyone to have a great time. Food, music, dancing-” His eyes took a faraway look. “Everyone deserves a little bit of beauty in their lives, right? Even if it’s only for just one night.” He looked a little sad, suddenly, and I laid my head on his shoulder as we walked, lacing our fingers together again.

  
“Thanks, Peeta,” I said.

 

“For what?” he asked, surprised.

  
“For being a good person.” I squeezed his hand. “And a good husband.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I think we should have it here,” Mrs. Mellark said, her arms crossed stubbornly in front of her chest.

  
“I disagree,” Grandmother said, her lips pressed together. “It’s entirely too small.”

 

I held back a groan, my eyes fluttering in exhaustion. We’d been sitting here for a few hours now, our two families having dined together at the Mellarks’ before settling into planning the toasting. Mr. Mellark and Grandfather disappeared to the parlor, and Prim went home to work on her homework before bed.

 

It was strange to think that my sister and I would now be separated by more than just a thin wall. Peeta and I would retire for the night in our new apartment, which has its own entrance and staircase in the alley of the apothecary. I felt myself shivering in anticipation, and tried to focus back on the discussion at hand. I shifted in my chair uncomfortably, the wood cutting into the back of thighs, and the space between my legs still twinging from the activities of last night.  

 

Mrs. Mellark’s mouth dropped, and she shot a sharp, offended glare at the other woman. “We have _plenty_ of space here! We have our living quarters, the bakery front, and the alleyway-”

 

“Oh, so we should have our guests mingling in the _alleyway_ like common urchins?”

  
“Well-!”

 

“Why don’t we host it in the square and rent a tent from the grocer?” Peeta asked calmly. “We can use both of our houses for resting places for older guests, and also there will be more bathrooms. They’re both centrally located.” He coughed. “We’ve invited basically half the town between us-”

 

Both of the women leveled him with a look. “Not just the town,” his mother said coldly. “I cannot _believe_ you invited Seam trash to this toasting.”

  
“That was my decision,” I said, smiling at her nicely. Peeta looked at me with a frown, and I could tell he wanted to object to my lie.

  
“I should have known,” she muttered. “Did you invite your Hawthorne boy, too?”

 

I blanched at the mention of him, our fight still too raw and unsettled. Peeta looked away before turning back with a determined expression on his face.

 

“The entire Hawthorne family is welcome at our toasting. He is Katniss’ oldest friend, after all.”

  
“Fool,” his mother sneered, her favorite insult.    

  
“Careful,” Grandmother said, bored. “I think you have a little coal dust in your family tree, don’t you, Lissah?”

  
Mrs. Mellark flushed, and Peeta and I made wide eyes at each other, trying to hold back smiles. I felt myself actually liking my Grandmother for a split second, but of course she immediately ruined it by adding, “Besides, we can afford to show a little charity to the weak and needy.”

 

“That’s enough for tonight,” Peeta said, standing and pulling me with him. He shouldered a small bag of clothes that he had packed when we first arrived for dinner. Our marriage license was also tucked inside of it for safe keeping. “I think we’ve got it mostly sorted out for this Friday night, don’t you think? Now if you’ll excuse us, my wife and I are tired.”

 

After he assured his mother he’d be back at the bakery tomorrow for his regularly scheduled shifts, Grandmother pressed the apothecary apartment key into my hand and Peeta led us outside, where we walked across the street, our steps becoming slower and more tentative as we approached the stairs that led to our new home.

  
“Well, that could have been worse, huh?” he asked, blowing out a breath.

 

“I feel like that’s the theme of our life.” I elaborated at Peeta’s confused look: “You know, ‘it could have been worse.’”

 

“Oh,” he said softly, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “Well. I couldn’t have done better.”

  
I shook my head. “Peeta, I didn’t mean _you._ ”

 

He smiled at me sadly and walked up the stairs, and I followed anxiously, moving to stand next to him and unlock the door. We flipped on the light switch, and the small living room was bathed in light. I was surprised at how clean it was, the furniture outdated but made from sturdy, lasting wood. The kitchen was serviceable, and I saw Peeta eyeing it with approval. Thankfully, he’d be taking the brunt of the kitchen-work. I could cook, but it wasn’t my specialty by any means.

  
Peeta looked at everything carefully, his fingers brushing the blank wall. “I’d like to paint this,” he said thoughtfully.

 

“Whatever you want,” I said, eager to make him happy, the shift in his mood palpable. I placed the key onto the kitchen table, feeling jittery. “We need to move your things in here tomorrow.”

 

He shrugged, still facing the wall. “I just have the rest of my clothes, basically. Oh, and my paint supplies. Mother said we’ll get household items at the toasting.”

 

I walked behind him and wrapped my arms around his stomach. “Don’t be mad at me.”

 

He stiffened and then relaxed. “Oh, Katniss. I’m not. I could never be. I just wish-”

  
“What?”

  
He inhaled. “I just wish I was what you wanted.”

 

“Peeta, I told you. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else but you.”

 

He turned around, and we were face-to-face. Very close. “I just want it to be real. Our marriage."

  
“I know,” I whispered, and then he kissed me, very lightly on the cheek.

 

We got ready for bed then, silently, and a little shyly. There were two bedrooms, ours the slightly larger one of the pair. We took turns in the washroom, brushing our teeth with paste that Prim must have placed in there for us, and taking care of any bathroom needs. Peeta was already stripped down to his pajama bottoms and under the covers when I exited the washroom, and he politely turned his face away while I changed into a thin nightgown, even though he had seen it all before.

 

I slid beneath the covers as well, and Peeta flipped off the bedside lamp once I had settled in. I fisted the blue checkered comforter in my hand, and wondered if my mother had ever used it as a child. It felt new and soft between my fingers, but I brushed off the possibility that my grandparents had purchased such a luxury just for us.

 

We laid there, side by side, and I found myself wondering if Peeta would touch me again. If I even _wanted_ him to touch me. A large part of me admitted that I did, but the loudest inner voice protested it was too soon, too much, too _terrifying_ , because what if I became pregnant? The preventative brew that we mix in the apothecary was supposed to be ingested every day for at least a week prior to intercourse. I hadn’t had time to prepare for that event when our marriage arrangement was sprung upon us. But I couldn’t deny Peeta-

 

“Katniss,” he said, his voice quiet. “You’re thinking too much.”

  
“You know me so well,” I whispered back.

 

“I don’t want anything from you tonight,” he said. “You know that, right?”

 

I was silent for a moment, my face burning. How is it that he had been inside of me last night, that this very morning I had him in my fist where I worked him to completion, but right now I felt like a mortified virgin again?

  
“I’m your wife.”

  
He made a frustrated noise. “I know that.” I felt more than heard the thump of his head against one of our shared pillows. “But a marriage is more than just an agreement. I don’t want a marriage like my parents. You’re my best friend.” My eyes were adjusting a little more to the dark, and I could see him rubbing his cheek anxiously. “God, I meant what I said last night. I don’t want to lose you.”

 

“You _won’t_ -”

  
“I will,” he said grimly, his hand finding mine in the dark. “I will if we rush this anymore than we already have. You weren’t ready last night and you’re not ready now.”

 

“Well, what about you?” I felt myself becoming annoyed. I wasn’t a child, nor as innocent as he seemed to believed me to be.

 

Peeta laughed, a humorless sound. “Katniss, I was born ready for you.”

  
He took my breath away with words like that. I never knew what to say, but Peeta could paint a tapestry with twenty words or less.

  
“You didn’t even ask me if this is what I wanted,” I said, a little churlishly.

  
“Well, is it?” he asked. I was silent, debating the answer. He gave a little nod. “That’s what I thought.”

 

“No, w-wait.” I swallowed hard. “I liked what we did. It hurt a little, but...I liked it. I think it could be good,” I said quietly, embarrassed at my bold admission. “I’m just worried about, well...I don’t want to be pregnant, Peeta. Not right now.” For all I knew, I already could be, though the odds were slim. I kept that little thought to myself.

 

His breath hitched, heavy and obvious in the dark, almost oppressive silence in the room.

 

“Katniss,” he started, his voice a little more tentative. “There is-” He stopped.

  
“What?’

 

“I don’t think we should be...together tonight. Not like that,” he said. I felt a mix of strong relief mingled with disappointment. “But nothing about last night was good for you. There’s something I want to try, if you’ll let me.”

 

“What is it?” I asked curiously, sitting up a little on my elbows.

 

"I want you to allow me to make you feel good." I could easily make out the outline of his strong, stocky form as he rolled onto his side to face me. He continues hesitantly, “I want to kiss you.”

 

“That’s it?” I asked, teasing. “That’s easy.”

 

He shook his head and leaned forward, his blue eyes sparkling in the sliver of moonlight streaming through the window behind our bed.

 

“Not on your lips, Katniss,” he said, his hand unfurling from mine. His fingers trailed up my arm, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. “Somewhere else.”

 

_Oh._   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my brilliant beta: nonemoreblack.
> 
> Also, thank you to everyone who has been so supportive and interested in this fic through the years. I hope this chapter was at least a little worth the wait—I dedicate it to all of you. 
> 
> I’m “peetaspenis” on tumblr, come hang out.


	6. Company Calls

"W-what?" Katniss stuttered, staring up at Peeta with wide eyes.

Even before she and Peeta consummated their relationship, she hadn't been completely innocent to the variety of carnal acts that occur inside of the marriage bed. She heard the whispers and giggles at school about what happens at the slag heap. She'd even seen a forbidden photo or two on display at the The Hob— limbs and hands and  _parts_  in places that made her turn away from the booth, hot with embarrassment and something else.

But what Peeta had just suggested...it was…

"Isn't that disgusting?" she blurted out, squeezing her eyes shut when Peeta searched her face with disbelief. "You really want to do that?"

"Disgusting?" he repeated, his surprised tone melting into a low chuckle. She turned red at his amusement and sat up a little on her elbows to glare at him.

"Don't laugh at me." She frowned, her face burning. Her fingers clenched reflexively around the material of the comforter, looking for support. Peeta shook his head, his lips still quirked upward.

"Shh," he said soothingly, rubbing a warm hand on her thigh. "I'm not. You're just so pure, Katniss."

Katniss bristled.

"How would you even know how to do that?" She looked at him in suspicion, her heart beating faster. The idea of him kissing another girl at all, let alone  _there-_!

Well, she hated it. She clenched her teeth and waited in silence.

"I've never done it before, if that's what you mean," he said in an even voice. "I told you I was a virgin, too."

"Then how?"

"You forget I have two brothers." He leaned over her and brushed his lips high on her cheekbone, and she shivered. "There's never been anyone but you in my bed, Katniss. There  _never_  will be anyone but you."

She felt immediately calm at his words, which is why it surprised her even more when he held her chin in his hands, suddenly forcing her to look at him. "Are you jealous?"

"No-" Katniss started, flustered. But then, why lie? "Yes. Maybe," she conceded, biting her lip at the admission of her weakness.

_It's fine to feel this way,_  she told herself.  _Peeta is my best friend. No. My husband._

It was valid to wonder about who came before her, especially considering that Katniss was certain she knew almost everything there was to know about him. She'd always been possessive of what was hers, a remnant of a meager, tragic childhood. But the Sundays she had spent with Gale— well, who knew what Peeta had been up to?

"I know I shouldn't but I- I kind of adore it," he admitted, nuzzling her hair. "It's a start, at least."

"A start?" she questioned, breathless when his hand inched up her leg, toying with the edge her nightgown.

"To us," he replied absently, his thumb rubbing a pattern on the smooth skin of her thigh. "To what I want. To how I want you to feel about me," he said, distracted when she parted her thighs almost involuntarily.

"You want me to be jealous?" Katniss asked, her doubtful voice edging out into a low moan when his fingers stroked perilously close to the juncture of her thighs.

She watched as he slowly moved backward down her body, kissing his way down her face, her neck, the exposed skin of an arm, and finally her thigh. He started to push her nightgown up to gather around her hips, and with one nod from Katniss, her plain white panties were slipped down her legs.

Once again, she was completely exposed to Peeta. A part of her was mortified, but the burning part, the insistent tingling in her abdomen, ached for relief.

And Peeta was looking at her like she was the queen of Panem.

"No." He dragged his gaze away from her body for a moment, pinning her with his stare. "I want you to love me," he said with honest eyes, and then his head dipped between her legs.

The first touch of Peeta's tongue against the most intimate part of her wrought pure, unadulterated bliss down her spine. She had never in her life felt anything so decadent as the moist tip of his tongue licking delicate stripes against her lower lips, his fingers carefully holding them apart to find the most tender flesh beneath.

"Oh my-  _oh,_ " she moaned, her hips jerking as his mouth pulled at her with a warm, insistent suction, his tongue flicking at the sensitive, throbbing bud at her center.

She stared at the ceiling, the faded white of the molding burning into her irises even in the dimness of the room, and she panted like an animal as he worked on her with his mouth. She couldn't speak, couldn't make a human noise. It was too much, it wasn't enough. It was everything.

"P-Peeta," she tried to stammer, her hand finding his hair shakily. He stopped and looked up, his mouth wet with her. Katniss was stunned by the sight, his blonde waves sticking every which way, his cheeks flushed, his blue eyes feral and fascinated.

"That's it," he urged, nuzzling her mound with his nose. He looked pleased, and she was suffering. "Let go."

"It's too much," she whimpered, unconcerned with how pitiful she sounded.

"It's not." Peeta gave her a heated, intense look, and then his thumb took the place of his tongue on her- her  _clit_. That's the word she had heard in the girl's washroom at school. She groaned again as he carefully flicked at the place, looking a little uncertain until her mouth dropped and her eyes rolled back in her head. He smiled and kissed her inner thigh. "Oh Katniss, it's  _not_."

He lowered his head and suckled again, and her back bowed off the bed with the onslaught of his tongue and fingers against her. Katniss felt a storm gathering, an intense need that had been building since last night, maybe longer, and her legs started to shake as Peeta slipped his arms under her thighs, anchoring her to him as he licked at her with noisy, messy swipes, humming in satisfaction when she shouted out her pleasure into the quiet darkness of the room.

Tomorrow she'd be embarrassed and wonder if anyone had heard her. But right then….right then...

It happened.

"Peeta," Katniss cried, gripping his hair with one hand while the other clutched blindly at the bedpost behind her.

It was as if lightning had struck directly from Peeta's tongue to her flesh. She felt paralyzed as the orgasm crashed over her, her legs stiffening and her mouth freezing into an 'o' where only the most basic of garbled curses stuttered out of her lips.

Her body unclenched from its bowed arch, and she collapsed and melted into the bed. A pure, delicious buzz of exhausted relief thrummed through her.

So that was an orgasm. She wanted them _forever_.

Katniss was only vaguely aware of Peeta's gentle licks cleaning her up between her legs and ushering her out of her release until she suddenly became too sensitive for any more touch.

"No more," she moaned breathlessly, and he looked up at her.

She tugged him upward by the shoulder, and when he landed next to her on the bed, she clutched his face between her hands and kissed him. Her eyes fluttered opened, and she saw that his were wide open, a look of pure emotion pouring back at her as she flicked her tongue at the seam of his lips, a little artless and base, but his mouth slipped open to accept her anyway. She noticed a musky, tart taste on his lips, and realized with a start that it was  _her_.

She pulled away with a soft smack, but he dropped two more kisses on her lips before gently pushing her back down onto the pillow. He reached between them to tug down the nightgown that had pooled around her waist by then, and she decided she didn't care much about her panties at all. She could barely even  _move_.

Peeta stroked her cheek and pushed a damp strand of hair behind her ear. "How do you feel?" he asked in a soft, questioning voice, his eyes searching her face almost anxiously. "Was that okay? I can do better next-"

"I feel wonderful." She was practically slurring with exhaustion. "Peeta, you are  _wonderful_."

He chuckled and pulled her to his chest. She felt boneless as he held her to him. "I've wanted to do that to you for as long I can remember."

"Mmm," she said, reaching up and petting at his hair with sleepy hands. "You can do it whenever you want."

"Really?" The quiet surprise in the word was unmistakable.

"You're my husband," she murmured nonsensically, and then she was out like a light.

* * *

She gave him a coy look under her eyelashes, her cheeks burning when he locked eyes with her over a loaf of bread that he'd carted out fresh from the back. His mother had all but banished Katniss from the kitchen when she made a mess of her first batch of muffins, and Mr. Mellark had tactfully suggested that she learn the business of the storefront first.

"Everything all right?" Peeta asked, leaning forward and brushing his lips against hers.

"Peeta!" She cast a glance around them in the busy bakery, but all she received in return were amused looks from the regulars.

"What?" he teased, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're my wife and I can kiss you whenever I want, remember?"

She scowled, finding it hard to keep her lips from turning up at the corners. "Flirt."

"I don't know how on earth you two are going to run this place after we retire," Mrs. Mellark hissed as she bustled by, giving them baleful looks from her watery eyes. "Not when you can't keep your hands off each other. It's disgraceful."

"All thanks to you, Mother," Peeta said cheerfully, walking backward toward the kitchen. "Have I thanked you lately for making Katniss marry me?" The doors swung shut behind him, giving him the last word.

"That boy," his mother muttered under her breath, taking a coin from the candle maker in return for a dozen chocolate chip cookies. "I'm glad he's your problem now."

"Me, too," Katniss snapped, wiping her hands on her apron. "Now hand me a loaf of rye."

The rest of the morning passed quickly, the bustle of weekend business keeping them hopping. She continued to sneak intermittent moments with Peeta under the annoyed, watchful eye of Mrs. Mellark until the noon day lunch break.

"I should go," she told Peeta after quickly eating a sandwich he put together for her. She untied her apron and hung it on a hook that already had  _Katniss_  labeled above it. It gave her a queer little thrill to see it emblazoned there so permanently, like she's a fact that can't be erased from Peeta's life. "I told Grandmother I'd be at the apothecary this afternoon. She wants to teach me how to make a few new medicinal brews."

"Sounds good," he said, clearing away their plates. "I'll see you tonight, then."

Katniss' eyebrows furrowed together until she remembered-  _she's married_  to this boy. She'll be going home to him every night, for the rest of their lives.

"I suppose. If I don't run away first." Peeta blanched, and her eyes widened. "Peeta. I was only kidding. You know that."

"Sure." He turned away and started to wash their dishes, his back to her.

Katniss walked forward and placed her hand on his back. "It wasn't a funny joke, was it?"

"No," he agreed quietly, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder. Peeta smiled wryly. "I think I'll take that brand of humor a little better on our ten year anniversary. Not a few days after you've been forced into doing something you didn't want to do."

"Hey." She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. "I admit it. I was scared at first. Still am, to be honest. And...I might have a problem with authority a bit."

He smiled at this.

"I hated that our families orchestrated our lives like this," Katniss continued. "But I can't regret promising to love my best friend forever."

"Me neither," he said, kissing her.

* * *

The bell above the door jingled, signifying a new customer.

"I'll be right with you," Katniss said without looking up from her work. She lined up her knife to carefully cut a bundle of herbs.

"Catnip."

She slipped, slicing deeply into her finger.

"Hell," she swore, putting her mouth to the wound. She quickly backed away from the cutting station, not wanting to contaminate the costly materials.

Gale was by her side in only a moment. "Here," he said, tearing off a strip of material from his shirt. "Use this."

She shook her head and walked to the small sink in the corner. "I don't want to infect it. I have some clean gauze in the back."

"Of course," he said, his expression a shade away from mockery. "I don't want to get you filthy."

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him, exasperated and bleeding. "It's not like that, Gale. It's just the basics of healing."

She disappeared into the back, her hand trailing over boxes and containers until she found what she was looking for. She quickly wrapped a length of gauze around her finger and secured it in place with a bit of tape. She turned and almost shouted with surprise when she saw Gale right behind her.

"You can't be back here, Gale."

"I remember a time when you wouldn't have cared," he countered, leaning against the archway of the storage room.

"Things are different. Just...stop. Whatever you're doing right now, you need to stop before it begins."

He stepped forward, his nostrils flaring. "You married him, Catnip. Fucking hell!"

"I told you I was."

"But so soon! And- I didn't think you'd really…" His shoulders slumped and he looked away, his eyes focusing on a shelf lined with empty vials.

"Well, I did," Katniss said, not unkindly. "And it's not changing. Not ever."

"Are you happy?" he asked, the fire in his eyes subdued as he met her stare.

"I'm content. I love Peeta." She didn't relish the pain on her friend's face, but she knew she had to be blunt. That she couldn't give him any reason to hope, because it wouldn't be fair to him, or to Peeta. "This wasn't my choice, but I'm not unhappy."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"It's enough," she replied. "And now you have to leave."

The defeat went out of his posture. "Why?" he sneered, crossing his arms. " _He_  wouldn't like it? Can't we even be friends?"

" _Peeta_  would like it just fine," she said calmly, brushing by him and walking back to the storefront. Her finger throbbed, and she just wanted to be done with this conversation. "He doesn't have a problem with you. In fact, you're invited to the toasting this coming Friday."

Gale's mouth fell open. "You...I-" he sputtered.

She sighed and leaned against the counter, her eyes taking on a pleading glint. "It would mean so much if you would be there," she said. "Please, you're one of my oldest friends. One of my  _only_  friends. I want your whole family to come. There will be cake-"

"I will  _never_  come to your toasting," he interrupted, his eyes going flat. "I don't need your cake, or your pity invite."

"That's not what this is!"

They stared at each other, a tense standoff. Gale broke first, his chest heaving.

"I was wrong," he said abruptly. " _He_  may be fine with us being friends, but I don't think I can do it." He squeezed his hand into a fist. "Maybe...maybe someday."

"Gale." She looked at him in shock.

Gale shook his head. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Mellark." And then he left, leaving her wondering when she'd see him again.

She stood there, motionless, until the sound of footsteps broke her from her trance.

"That was really bad," Prim said, her voice small.

Katniss whirled around. "You heard that?" She looked at her little sister with a contrite expression. "It was— Gale's just upset, is all."

"Because he's in love with you," she said simply.

Katniss busied herself at the counter, going back to the task of chopping herbs after rinsing off the knife. "He thinks he is."

"Peeta's really great."

Katniss frowned at the abrupt subject change. "I know."

"So don't mess it up." Prim walked over and peered at her sister's face. "I don't think he should know Gale was here. Maybe wait a little while."

"I don't want to lie to him."

"Maybe...don't lie. Just don't tell everything."

Katniss laughed despite herself, laying down the knife. "I'll think about it." She ruffled Prim's hair, watching the blonde strands dance in the afternoon light. "But I don't want to hide things from him, even if it's an uncomfortable truth."

Prim huffed and looked at the ceiling. "I thought you'd say that."

* * *

"Slow down," Peeta said, chuckling. He watched her eat with a rapt expression, his own food growing cold. "I'm worried you're going to choke."

"I  _can't_." Katniss chased a piece of deer sausage around a chipped, porcelain plate with the tines of a dented fork, coating the meat with white gravy flecked with black pepper. "This is incredible, Peeta."

He flushed with pleasure at compliment, looking away and studying the faded walls. "I've cooked for you before."

"Not like this." She chewed with great relish before speaking again. "Only snacks and cookies and things. This is a proper grown-up meal."

"I'll cook for you every night." Peeta took a bite of his own food and pulled an unsatisfied face. He reached for the mismatched salt and pepper shakers that her grandmother had given them, and shook them over his food with careful precision. He reached over to sprinkle the seasonings over her plate as well, but she smacked his hand away. "It might not be fine or fancy, but you'll never go hungry when I'm around."

He watched as Katniss sopped up a puddle of gravy with a small roll and laughed at her crestfallen face when the roll disappeared in two bites.

Her bottom lip jutted out. "It's so  _good_."

"Here," Peeta said, jumping to his feet and retrieving a basket covered with a blue checkered cloth. He placed it in front of her with a flourish, pulling back the cloth and releasing a warm rush of fragrant steam into the air. "Eat all you want, wife."

She paused but didn't comment. He'd been slipping in the word as an endearment all night, spoken once with experimental caution, but then repeated often, as if he found it pleasing on his tongue. It wasn't hurting anyone, so why stop him? And, it was true. She was his wife. The small allowance also lessened her guilt over Gale's visit just the tiniest bit. She'd wavered on broaching the subject all day, but her sister had gotten into her head, and Peeta was in such a good mood- why ruin it?

"Grandmother has been cooking for a thousand years, and she's nowhere near as good as you," she told him after the meal was finished, sitting back and patting her stomach. "You did magic with only a few ingredients."

He shrugged and cleared their plates, walking them over to the kitchen sink. "Had to make do growing up. The bakery does well compared to other places, but there were plenty of lean years of stale rolls and scrawny chickens. My parents would be so tired from the bakery that they'd let my brothers and I take over some nights." He turned his hide and shot her a smile, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. "After a long day in front of the ovens, Duff and Mill hated dinner duty. So of course the task fell to me, the oft-bullied baby brother."

She scowled behind his back. "They treated you terribly."

"It's the way of brothers."

Katniss stood and walked up next to him, drying the dishes with a small hand towel. "Well, I don't like it. Our children would nev-"

He paused, the water trickling over a cup in his hand.

"It was a slip of the tongue," she rushed to say, tripping over herself to explain.

She found herself suddenly airborne, Peeta's large hands leaving behind two slightly damp spots on her waist as he lifted her onto the counter. He leaned in until they were practically nose to nose, and his wiped his hands on his pants before placing them on her shoulders.

"I know," he told her, matter-of-fact. "I can see you panicking, and I won't have it. I didn't read anything into what you said except that you're a protective, loving person."

"But you want children. I don't."

"I want  _you_ ," Peeta said, touching her cheek. She blushed, and he continued, "I can't say it any plainer than that. I love you, Katniss. And I'd be lying if I said that my heart didn't just about stop a minute ago, thinking about babies with you. But I can live without them. All right?"

She exhaled. "All right."

He gave her a skeptical look and patted her thigh. "Now, just sit right here and keep me company while I finish up." He leaned over and rifled through another basket on the counter.

"But-"

A cookie was popped into her mouth. She stopped talking.

* * *

"How was your day?" he asked, his thumb rubbing circles on the top of her hand. It was dark in the warm hush of their room, and they had been lying in comfortable near-silence after Peeta told her a funny story about the butcher's wife slipping in front of the bakery.

Katniss tensed. "It wasn't bad. I learned how to make a salve for sulfur burns."

"Mhmm. Tell me about it."

She turned her head, her eyebrow raised at him. "You want to hear about salve?"

"I want to hear about you," he said, gazing up at the ceiling. Katniss couldn't make out all of his features in the dark, but she could hear the smile in his voice. It made her chest ache in a way she couldn't explain.

"I saw Gale today."

His thumb paused, and then made its rounds again on her skin. "I know."

Katniss pulled away and sat straight up, holding the covers to her chest. "What?" She gaped at him, squinting into the dark. "You knew the whole time?"

"Yes," Peeta admitted, sitting up as well. His blonde hair glinted in the moonlight streaming through the window behind the bed. "I saw him from the bakery window."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't you?" he countered, taking her hand to soften the blunt sting of his words.

"I don't rightly know." She sighed, her shoulders dropping. "I was- I was scared. I didn't want to upset you. I know Gale isn't your favorite topic, and things are still so new."

He was quiet for a moment. "Would you feel okay with telling me what he wanted?"

"Me, I think," Katniss said honestly. "He was mad about our marriage. Wanted to talk me out of it again. But Peeta," she continued, feeling the stiffness of his fingers, "I set him straight."

"Is he coming to the toasting?"

"I invited him," she said. "But he made it clear he wasn't interested." There was a silence so long that she had to ask, "Are you upset with me?"

"Oh, Katniss. Of course not. I'm just..." He trailed off and laid back down on the bed, and she followed suit. They turned to face each other, and it seemed so unbearably intimate that she almost wanted to turn away. "I guess I'm worried he got to you. That all of this will go away."

"No," she said firmly, scooting closer. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek, and even in the dark she could count almost every one of his golden eyelashes from this close of a distance. "I'm not going anywhere, Peeta."

He looked at her with solemn blue eyes. "Promise?"

She kissed him in reply, their lips meeting with a soft smack.

* * *

The next morning, she bustled around the kitchen, and Peeta watched with amusement as she attempted to make eggs for him.

"I can help," he said, laughing when she frowned down at little white pieces of shell floating in her mixing bowl of yolk and egg whites.

"No." She pointed at him with a spatula. "I'm doing this. Sunday morning breakfast is going to my thing."

"Sure," he agreed with a smile a hair too cheeky for her liking.

"Look here-"

A loud series of knocks stopped their banter, and Peeta answered the door after Katniss held up her hands dripping with yolk.

"Hi! It's me," Prim squeaked, her rounded cheeks glowing pink.

"It's my favorite little sister! Come in, come in," Peeta greeted her cheerfully, ushering her inside. "Good morning, Primrose."

She practically danced in place, her hands fluttering in excitement. "I'm your  _only_ little sister."

"Lucky me," he said with a grin, ruffling her hair. "You're just in time for Katniss' special Sunday morning breakfast."

Prim look around the small kitchen doubtfully, taking in her sister's harried expression and wild bed hair. "Can't you do it?" she asked him.

"Little traitor." Katniss glared at her with mock accusation, dropping the spatula onto the counter. "You'll get nothing but water and tea leaves from me." She looked at Peeta. "I give up."

"Aww." He walked over and kissed her cheek, chuckling at her pitiful expression. "How about egg toast with cinnamon syrup? Will that make you feel better?"

"Maybe."

"Please, please," Prim chanted, jumping up and down. "Oh! Katniss." She dug around the pockets of her long skirt and pulled out a slightly crumpled envelope. "This came for you this morning. Hand-delivered and everything."

Katniss wiped her hands on a tea towel and took it with a quizzical expression. She didn't often get mail, especially the kind stamped with an official Capitol seal. "Thanks."

"Forgot to tell you. I got one of those, too," Peeta said, tilting his head. "Came yesterday on the mail cart. Remember that test we had to take a while back? It's just our scores, and a thank you for being the first experimental class. Very generic." He handed an apron to Prim. "I guess they're going to add it as standardized testing."

"Oh." She frowned down at the envelope, and a feeling of unrest washed over her.

Katniss watched for a moment as Peeta taught Prim how to make egg toast before informing them she was going to get dressed. They waved her off, their blonde heads bent together over the counter.

Once she was in the bedroom, she quickly dressed and re-braided her hair after washing up. She kept eyeing the letter she had dropped on the bed, before finally picking it up. The Capitol set her on edge, and being on their radar wasn't usually something to be desired. The whole idea of failing whatever standards they had put into place with a surprise test made her feel itchy.

She started to read, and her mouth dropped open in shock.

_Katniss Mellark,_

_Congratulations. You have been selected as part of the District Star Squad Program. Due to your high testing scores and unique skills, we would like to offer you an elite placement amongst the ranks of other brilliant minds like yours._

_Below, you will find the details of your District relocation, should you accept our exciting offer. As a Capitol citizen, you would enjoy such benefits as..._

Katniss quickly scanned the contents with wide eyes, and she grew cold as she reached the bottom.

_Your recent marriage status has changed- never fear! As a Star Squad member, the Capitol offers you a complete, no-fault dissolution, and your partner will be well compensated for the inconvenience._

_Please respond within seven days time. We look forward to your acceptance, Katniss Mellark._

_Panem Today, Panem Tomorrow, Panem Forever,_

_The Capitol_

_At the behest of President Snow_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta, Shannon. All mistakes are mine.


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